Born Under a Bad Star
by Deco
Summary: Part 1 Now Complete.
1. Default Chapter

  
  


(This is a considerable AU)

  
  
  
  


BORN UNDER A BAD STAR: or On The Lam In The GFFA.

  
  


Chapter One:

  
  


Beru lay in bed, trying to maneuver her pillow so that it covered both her ears. The baby had been wailing continuously for nearly two hours. She wondered when he found the time to breathe. She also wondered how long if would take before she strangled him. Her nerves were definitely beginning to fray under the unending barrage of noise and the pounding of his Force-sense in her brain.

  
  


There was a soft knock at the door. Sighing, Beru got up, pulled on a robe, and answered it, though she knew who it was, and didn't particularly want to deal with it. She discovered Dr. Sydos leaning against the door frame, a baby in his arms, and an apologetic look on his face. Beru didn't need to look to determine which of the babies it was. The noise level alone indicated that it was the boy. She looked at Dr. Sydos tiredly, indicating by a wave of the hand that he should enter.

  
  


He came into her room furtively and sat down, the baby balanced awkwardly on his lap; the little boy stiffened his back and literally screamed with rage. Gritting her teeth, Beru took him from Dr. Sydos, placed him over her shoulder and began walking back and forth with him. It didn't stop the noise, but the volume did go down somewhat. He liked movement. As far as Beru could determine, it was the only thing in his world that he did like.

  
  


"Well?" she said to Dr. Sydos.

  
  


He shook his head. "She won't feed him. As a matter of fact, she won't even hold him."

  
  


"Maybe she's afraid of going deaf," Beru muttered. 

  
  


Dr. Sydos gave her a reproving glance. "It's not an uncommon phenomenon with twins," he said, "especially after a difficult labour. And he has the colic, which doesn't help. She only has the energy for one child."

  
  


And you're not it, kid, Beru thought to herself, as she paced. Your first lesson in life. It isn't what the rich call fair, but it's your lot. She rubbed his skinny back. The people who liked to say that no baby was ugly had never encountered this one, she thought ruefully. He was tiny, with stick-like arms and legs, a bald head, bleary red-rimmed eyes, and toothless gums--much displayed since he was always yelling.

  
  


"I'll talk to her," Beru said heavily, handing the baby back to Dr. Sydos. "See if you shut him up. It might help me with her. Won't he take a bottle?"

  
  


Dr. Sydos sighed. "I've tried and tried. He eats a little--sometimes. But it takes hours. He's really, really stubborn." He looked down at the little boy ruefully.

  
  


Beru forced herself to smile. "Well," she said. "I'll see if I can't arrange something more palatable for him."

  
  


****

  
  


For the thousandth time, Beru wished that she hadn't allowed Ben Kenobi to persuade her to nursemaid Amidala and her children. Of course, he'd used the word 'guard', but nursemaiding is what it amounted to. So she was stuck on this Force-forsaken Outer Rim planet with her royal Highness, whose state of mind left very much to be desired; the royal doctor, and the royal twins, one of whom was a serious contender for the Psycho Baby of the Year Award. But, hey, good old Beru could always be depended upon, couldn't she? She had never turned down or flubbed any assignment Kenobi had given her. So far. Everyone had their limits, of course, and she was fast reaching hers.

  
  


Nineveh was a planet that had parlayed a salubrious climate and numerous hot springs into a thriving business of health resorts, private hospital and spas. It had seemed like a perfect place to hide a woman about to give birth to twins; it had excellent medical facilities, and the private hospitals never asked embarrassing questions. Though the childbirth itself was long and painful, Beru was more concerned about Amidala's emotional state than her physical condition. The female twin was born first, and as far as Amidala was concerned, that was that. In fact, the boy had arrived ten pain-filled hours later. But after the first birth, Amidala had become completely apathetic, and did not even attempt to help with the second delivery. Only Dr. Sydos' skill had saved the young Queen's life, not to mention her son's, and the child was eventually born safely. His mother did not welcome him, to state the situation mildly. Since then, she had refused to hold, feed or even look at him.

  
  


Beru found Amidala sitting in her bedroom, nursing the other twin. Except for the boy's muffled howls of rage in the background, it was a peaceful scene. Amidala's long dark hair fell over her shoulders and veiled her face. She was gently rocking the child in her arms, humming under her breath.

  
  


Beru did not like Amidala, but she could not say that the young Queen had ever given her any genuine reason for her attitude. She can't help the way she looks, Beru thought ruefully. Or regulate the fact that her Inner Rim exquisiteness makes me feel like a clumsy frump. Or that every man that crosses her path wants to gratify her tiniest whim. Beru grimaced to herself. Keep your eyes on the road ahead, stupid, she told herself. If you want to sleep tonight, or at all, you've got to persuade this woman to nurture her own son.

  
  


Nor was Beru deceived by the young Queen's show of serenity. She could feel Amidala's distress clearly, even across the room. Beru could not read direct thoughts like some Jedi, but she had always been able to accurately discern emotions from other humans and humanoids. 

  
  


"Don't bother," Amidala said, not looking up. Amidala *could* read thoughts. 

  
  


Beru didn't answer. She sat down in a chair facing Amidala, and waited.

  
  


"I don't have enough milk for two," Amidala said, still staring down at her daughter. Beru leaned forward and looked at the child. The female twin was a completed contrast to her brother. She lay placidly and quietly in her mother's arms. She had quiff of dark hair, rosy cheeks, and chocolate-brown eyes. Beru had never had an opportunity to examine her closely, though. She was rarely out of her mother's arms. Beru searched her memory for the name Amidala had given the child and finally remembered it--Leia. The male twin had remained unnamed until she herself had pointed out the lack to Ben Kenobi. At first, he asked Amidala to name the boy; she had simply turned her face away without responding. Kenobi knew better than to insist, and after considerable hesitation, he had chosen Luke as the boy's name. It meant 'light' in the ancient Jedi language, in Beru's opinion a classic example of wishful thinking. She sighed as she turned to Amidala.

  
  


"If you don't have milk for two, we should try her on the bottle--I'd bet she'd take it," Beru said, "He won't."

  
  


Amidala stiffened and finally looked up. "No," she said.

  
  


"Amidala, he's in by far the worse shape of the two. Dr. Sydos tells me that he's lost weight since birth. He's got colic, which means he's in a lot of pain. He won't take the bottle. If you'd breast-feed him, it might help."

  
  


Amidala stood up and put her sleepy daughter into a nearby crib. She turned to face Beru, hands clenched into fists.

  
  


"I won't, and you can't make me," Amidala said, and then gave an odd spurt of laughter at how childish it sounded. She stopped abruptly. "I don't want him near me or the baby," she said in an expressionless voice, turning away to stare down at her sleeping daughter.

  
  


Beru was startled. "He's a baby, too, Amidala. He is also your son."

  
  


Amidala shook her head. Her long dark hair flowed from side to side. "He's Anakin's son, not mine."

  
  


"What do you mean?" Beru asked, though she feared that she knew.

  
  


"Haven't you felt it?" Amidala whispered. "His Force signature is almost the same. And Beru--he's a volatile. Like Anakin." Her voice rose. "He's just like him! It frightens me to death to be in the same room with him! She's normal, but he isn't! He isn't!"

  
  


"He might be, if you'd give him a chance!" Beru snapped back, her patience exhausted. "Stop being so dramatic and think about someone other than yourself for a change!" She regretted the words as soon as they were said. If she wanted Amidala's help with the boy, this was not the way to get it.

  
  


Amidala immediately switched into what Beru had privately dubbed 'her royal Majesty' mode. "You forget yourself!" she hissed . You peasant, Beru added to herself. "Leave me!" Amidala said, in her most commanding tone, turning her back.

  
  


"Very well," Beru said, wearily. As she came through the door, the boy's wails hit her ears with unpleasant force. He hadn't stopped for a minute. Beru motioned Dr. Sydos to follow her to her room. He sat down with the baby in his arms.

  
  


"No good," Beru said.

  
  


Dr. Sydos sighed. "After childbirth, some women can behave very strangely. They can reject a child; or they can smother it with attention. In this case, she's doing both. In the worse case scenario--" he stopped, confused.

  
  


Beru sat down beside him. She remembered that he was Amidala's longtime personal physician, and had probably served her for years. "Look," she said gently, "there's more to it than that. I can tell that she's upset and depressed. But she's also got the idea that he's dangerous."

  
  


"Dangerous? He's not even a month old."

  
  


Beru rubbed her chin. "Do you know anything about Force-adepts?"

  
  


"Just what I've read. I studied the subject when we discovered that her Majesty had the Force."

  
  


For a wonder, the baby had finally stopped yelling. He lay in Dr. Sydos's arms, sobbing quietly. Beru reached out and rubbed his cheek gently. Poor little devil, she thought, you don't deserve this, but you've got it anyway. 

  
  


"Most Force-adepts are latent, that is, they need prolonged contact with another Force-adept to trigger the development of their full abilities," Beru said. "Amidala is like that, so is the other baby, and so am I. So are most of the Knights. He isn't. A small number of Force-adepts are able to use the Force fully without a trigger, right from birth. They're called volatiles. They are usually stronger in the Force than latents, but they tend to have control problems and they are far more likely to turn to the Dark side. At one time, there were whole Jedi clans in which volatility was genetic. Centuries ago, they were exiled into the Unknown Regions because of the consistent trouble they caused. Most of these clans--they are called the Lost Clans in Jedi histories--never returned, but a few of them trickled back and settled in the Outer Rim. General Kenobi believes that Anakin Skywalker was a descendant of one of these families.

  
  


"He was volatile, then?"

  
  


"I'll have to admit that I never noticed it in him," Beru said. "But General Kenobi believes that he was. And this baby is. I did notice it in him, right after he was born. So did his mother, unfortunately."

  
  


Dr. Sydos looked down at the baby. "What does it mean?" he asked. The baby hiccuped. No sense of occasion, Beru thought, repressing a smile.

  
  


"It means that when he screams, it's like he's hammering your brain with rocks, if you're a Force adept. So it's not just the noise that's bothering her. And she's afraid."

  
  


"That he'll go to the dark side," the doctor did understand.

  
  


"Yes--if he doesn't starve to death first. I think we're going to have give up on Amidala in that respect. Have you looked for a wet-nurse?"

  
  


"I tried. The locals have some kind of superstition about it. They say if one of their women nurses him, he will belong to her. They wouldn't let him go."

  
  


"Great," Beru muttered, "His mother might like that solution, but General Kenobi won't. Where does that leave us? Anywhere at all?"

  
  


Dr. Sydos gave her a furtive look. "Well, there is another possibility, if you would consider it--"

  
  


Beru's eyes narrowed. "What?" she asked warily.

  
  


"There's a new drug that allows women to nurse babies that aren't theirs. They don't even have to give birth themselves. You could--"

  
  


"Not a chance!" Beru snapped. She had done plenty of dirty work for Kenobi in the past, but this was different.

  
  


"Why not?" Dr. Sydos said. "It's that, or he'll have to go on i.v., and that's only a short term solution. How could it hurt you?"

  
  


Beru sat down and put her head in her hands. "When I was a kid, I was in a very serious accident. My parents and my two younger brothers were killed. I was injured--severely. The doctors told me that as a result, I'm sterile." It had been the day she turned seventeen, she remembered. Happy birthday, Beru.

  
  


Dr. Sydos came over and took her hand. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. But whether or not you can have children yourself won't matter--this drug would work despite that. And if you would do it, you'd help somebody who needs it. He's got colic, sure, but his real problem is failure to thrive. And that's because he needs to bond with someone."

  
  


But why, oh why, does it have to be me, Beru moaned to herself. The baby sobbed again. Beru looked at him, wondering if the doctor sensed that she often found the child as repellent as his mother did. I'm no better than she is, she thought, yet I sit here criticizing her.

  
  


"Are there any side-effects?" she asked in a thick voice. The doctor smiled victoriously.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

Chapter Two--The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

  
  


Beru sat in her room, nursing a baby. Something I'd thought I'd never do, she thought to herself. It hadn't been an easy road, either. The drug had taken a few days to work, and in the interim, the baby had reached new heights of hungry rage. When she had finally tried to feed him, it had been a disaster. She had been awkward and uneasy; the baby angry and frustrated. After two exhausting day, they had finally managed it, mainly because they were both so tired that they had finally relaxed a bit.

  
  


Since then, they had fallen into a routine. She and the doctor had moved Luke's crib into her room. Since Amidala had studiously avoided her since their last conversation, and the doctor had been treating her Majesty for milk fever, Beru and the boy were basically on their own. Beru was rather surprised to note that she didn't much mind this. Once he started eating regularly, the baby also started sleeping, sometimes as many as four or five hours at a time. More sleep helped both Beru's morale and the baby's temper. His colic had eased. He was even gaining a little weight. Best of all, in Beru's opinion, was the cessation of his hellish Force tantrums.

  
  


Dr Sydos knocked at the open door. "So how are we doing?" he said with an ingratiating smile. 

  
  


"We're doing fine," Beru said, with a sarcastic inflection which the doctor blithely ignored. He came over and took Luke gently from her arms. "Just want to take a look at this young man, I haven't examined him for nearly a week."

  
  


"How's Amidala?" Beru asked, politely. She wasn't especially interested.

  
  


"Doing a little better. She had the fever for several days. And a nasty infection. I had to put the little girl on the bottle for a bit. She took it, though. No problem."

  
  


"Good. If she hadn't, no doubt you'd have expected me to fill in. One is enough."

  
  


The doctor grinned at her, unabashed. "Well, if it had been necessary, I wouldn't have hesitated. He's doing really well. You're a natural."

  
  


Beru shook her head, her face reddening. "I'm a rank amateur. He was so hungry, he overlooked it." She rose to stand beside the doctor at the changing table as he carefully examined the baby.

  
  


"Weight's good--he's nearly caught up to his sister. Colic's almost gone. Is he sleeping well?"

  
  


"Not too bad," Beru said. "Sometimes he's restless, but usually he'll sleep after he's fed. Last night it was five and a half hours."

  
  


The doctor nodded, smiling. Then his face clouded. "It's a pity that he doesn't have her Majesty's colouring," he said, touching the baby's head. "It might have helped with--" He stopped.

  
  


It was true that the baby was no longer bald, but his soft aureole of hair was so fair--almost white--that you could hardly tell. His eyes had been dark blue at birth, but Beru had been alarmed to note that their colour had been lightening ever since. It was obvious that he had inherited more than Force talent from his father.

  
  


"Maybe his hair will darken as he gets older," Beru said hopefully.

  
  


Dr. Sydos shook his head. "I did genetic scans on both children when they were born," he said. "The little princess tested as stable, which means that her colouring won't change. His test indicated that as an adult, his eyes will be grey-blue, and his hair no darker than light brown."

  
  


"I have a suspicion that even if he looked exactly like her, Amidala wouldn't be that interested in him. Isn't the Naboo monarchy matrilineal, anyway? She's got her heiress, and Luke is so much spare baggage." Beru could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. Spare baggage that had been dumped on her.

  
  


"The inheritance does go through the female line, yes," the doctor said. "Male children belong to the royal family, but they can't inherit the throne, through their daughters can, if the female line fails."

  
  


"Is the little girl healthy? Amidala clings to her so much, I can't tell."

  
  


"Yes, she's fine. Though I do wish that her Majesty would--" Again he stopped.

  
  


"You wish that she wouldn't cling quite so hard."

  
  


"Too much attention is just as bad as too little," the doctor said soberly. "I'd like to discuss it with her, but she is in such a fragile state emotionally, I don't dare."

  
  


"Have you considered that she might be a danger to that little girl?"

  
  


Dr. Sydos gave her a hard look, but he didn't deny the possibility. Beru considered this omission ominous. Finally he said, "She seems to love the child very much. I don't think that she would hurt her. But I wish I was as sure that she wouldn't hurt herself."

  
  


Beru stared at him. "You think she's suicidal?" she said very quietly. The doctor looked toward the door. He had closed it. "Don't worry, she's in her room," Beru said, "I can tell."

  
  


"I really don't know--it's hard to say. She's very, very depressed. The fever didn't help, either. I've had some experience with port-partum conditions, and a failure to bond with the child, if there's only one, is quite common. And sometimes--" he hesitated, "--the mother will attempt to harm the child. Sometimes herself and the child. That's why I haven't tried to get her to separate from the little girl more. I'm not sure that she could handle it. Not now, anyway. The child seems to be the only thing that comforts her."

  
  


Beru said, "You're gambling with that baby's life."

  
  


He said, looking away, "I'm pretty sure that if she tries to hurt one of the children, it won't be the princess."

  
  


"That's the real reason you wanted me to breast feed him, isn't it?" Beru said, bitterly. "You weren't sure you could protect him. You wanted me to do it." She felt angry. Luke immediately picked up on her mood and began wailing. He had quickly become attuned to her emotions. Beru took him into her arms and forced herself to calm down. She definitely didn't want to trigger one of his Force tantrums.

  
  


"You're a Jedi, after all. I'm not. How could I protect him?"

  
  


How indeed, Beru thought. Amidala was Jedi, and Queen of this man's planet. He was used to deferring to her. If it comes to a showdown, I can't depend on him. He wants to help the child, but he won't defy Amidala to do it. In a head-to-head with her crazy Majesty, Beru was skeptical of her own chances. They were about equal in Force talent, and Beru had more experience. The baby was the weak link, though. He was so small that he could be hurt easily, and Amidala would not fight fair. Beru looked down at the little boy in her arms. He was completely dependant upon her. He stared back at her. Sometimes Beru had an uncomfortable feeling that he understood what was going on. That was impossible, of course. He was far too young. His bright, pale eyes searched her face. He *did* look like Anakin. It would doom him in his mother's eyes. Perhaps in other eyes, as well. Beru's mouth tightened.

  
  


"She can't be left alone with him. Ever." Dr. Sydos said. "You understand?"

  
  


"I understand," Beru said shortly, not looking up. Too well, I understand, she sighed to herself.

  
  


*****

  
  


Several days later, Amidala appeared suddenly in Beru's room. Beru was startled. No knock at the door, no greeting; she just strolled in. She had not seen the young Queen since the day of their argument. The little girl was not with her.

  
  


Amidala walked forward and stared down at Luke, who was nursing. He stopped abruptly and looked up at her. Amidala's breath hissed through her teeth. Beru quickly wiped Luke's mouth and put him over her shoulder so Amidala could not see his face.

  
  


"What do you want?" she asked curtly, as she gently patted his back. She could feel his tension clearly. He was scared.

  
  


Amidala elegant eyebrows rose. "I wanted to see if you were really breast-feeding him," she said, drily. "Dr. Sydos said you were. Not that I mind. As long as I don't have to do it."

  
  


"Your maternal devotion is really touching."

  
  


"Enough!" Amidala said sharply, her eyes narrowing. "There's no law that says I have to love him. I don't. I can't."

  
  


Beru bit her tongue. She longed to tell Amidala off, but if the doctor was correct, her emotional state was fragile. No truth-telling allowed.

  
  


"So I'm breast-feeding him. Satisfied?"

  
  


Amidala rolled her lower lip through her teeth. "I suppose," she said, eyeing Beru speculatively. "When is Ben coming back? Do you know?"

  
  


Beru shook her head. "He hasn't contacted me," she said, rocking Luke in her arms. He buried his face in her shoulder. His mother was still studying him, as if he were an unpleasant mathematical problem she had to solve.

  
  


"I hate this place," Amidala said, turning to pace the room. "I want to leave."

  
  


"We're safe here. Ben has enough problems without worrying about your safety, or that of the twins."

  
  


Amidala clenched her fists at her sides. "We'll never be safe, never! *He'll* give us away." She lifted her chin in Luke's direction.

  
  


"He's a *baby,* Amidala."

  
  


"He's dangerous! Do you think I want to be the mother of another one like--like-" She couldn't finish.

  
  


"There's no reason to believe he'll turn out like Anakin."

  
  


Amidala shuddered. "It's my fault," she said.

  
  


"Of course it is," Beru said coolly, trying to cut off Amidala's rising hysteria.

  
  


Amidala gave a spluttered laugh. One of the unpredictable things about her, Beru thought, was that her often self-dramatizing ways were undercut by an undeniable sense of humour. Emotionally distraught or not, it was still there. Barely. Amidala came closer, until Beru had to pull her head back to meet her eyes.

  
  


"You don't like me much, do you, Beru?" she asked in a conversational tone.

  
  


Beru smiled uneasily. She wished Amidala would step back. "Not as much as that," she said cordially. 

  
  


"Why?" Amidala seemed rather amused.

  
  


Beru looked down at the child in her arms. "Don't pretend it's about him," Amidala said. "It isn't, is it?"

  
  


Beru sighed. "You condescend to me, Amidala. You do it to everybody. It's as natural to you as breathing, but I don't have to enjoy it."

  
  


Amidala gave her a half-smile. "Alright," she said, as if Beru had not spoken, "If you don't want to admit it, fine."

  
  


Beru almost said, admit what? But she didn't. She couldn't meet Amidala's eyes.

  
  


"Let me hold him," Amidala said.

  
  


Beru longed to say no. She could sense that Amidala's request was merely meant to goad her. And it did, though she not imagine why. After all, she had tried, time and time again, to get Amidala to take some interest in the boy. So why do I want to tell her to take a long walk in a vaporizer? Slowly, reluctantly, she rose and shifted Luke around in her arms until he faced his mother. Then she put him into Amidala's arms. The young Queen held him awkwardly. Beru had become attuned to the baby's emotions and she could sense his fierce uneasiness. His mother's expression frightened her; Amidala's face reflected her ill-concealed revulsion. Without a word, she thrust Luke back into Beru's arms and fled the room, stumbling as she did so. It was the only sign of clumsiness Beru had ever seen in her. Luke began to cry loudly. He knows trouble when he sees it, Beru thought. For a moment, she felt tempted to joint him, but concentrated instead on soothing him to sleep. The expression on Amidala's face as she looked at her infant son made it impossible to *her* to sleep, though. She had a bad feeling about it. Here comes trouble.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3The Great Escape

Chapter 3--The Great Escape

  
  


Trouble arrived a few days later, when Dr. Sydos summoned Beru to Amidala's room. He told her, shamefacedly, that the young Queen had specifically instructed him that Beru was not to bring Luke with her. Beru felt like disobeying this ukase, but in the end, she presented herself--alone--for inspection.

  
  


Amidala was standing beside a chair, her back to Beru. The little girl was not in evidence. 

  
  


Beru could sense Amidala's tension clearly. She was up to something.

  
  


She turned and held out an encrypted datacard. "I want you to take this to Obi-Wan. I believe that he's on Diotin right now. It's urgent."

  
  


Beru didn't move to take the card. "No."

  
  


"No?" Amidala repeated, as if she were unfamiliar with the word.

  
  


"Have it sent by messenger."

  
  


"That's too risky. It's highly confidential."

  
  


Berus shrugged. "Let it remain confidential, then. I'm not going anywhere."

  
  


"You'll do as you're told!" Amidala said, her voice rising.

  
  


Beru did not reply.

  
  


"I *order* you!"

  
  


"I'm not under your command," Beru said, deliberately omitting Amidala's title. The peasants are revolting. And mutinous, too.

  
  


"Obi-Wan ordered you to look after me."

  
  


"Yes, he did; and that's what I'm doing. I'm not your messenger boy."

  
  


Amidala was trembling. "Get out!" she said to Beru. "I'll tell Obi-Wan of your behaviour, be sure of it!"

  
  


On the way out of Amidala's room, Beru ran into Dr. Sydos. He gave her an apologetic look. Beru seized his wrist and pulled him into her own room. 

  
  


"Is she getting worse?" she asked.

  
  


"She's very depressed--"

  
  


"Quit telling me she's depressed! Is she having a breakdown?"

  
  


"It's not my area of expertise--but, but--yes, she's showing definite signs of obsessive symptoms."

  
  


Beru knew the score. "You mean Luke," she said. "She wants me out of the way, so he can have a nice quiet little accident."

  
  


Dr. Sydos looked miserable.

  
  


"Well, this is the planet to find treatment for her, isn't it?"

  
  


The doctor shook his head. "Any treatment would require full disclosure of her background to be efeective. I think it's too dangerous right now."

  
  


Beru wished the good doctor would grow a backbone, but there was no use wishing for a red star when you were born under a blue one. The truth was that he was simply not up to committing Amidala. Fair enough; she would have to deal with the situation herself, and soon.

  
  


*****

  
  


Beru made her preparations carefully over the next two days. She did not let the baby out of her sight, even showering with him, an amazingly awkward undertaking. After avoiding her previously, Amidala now watched her obsessively. Beru expected her to make her move soon. She was not disappointed.

  
  


Late that night, the alarms on the perimeters went off. Beru was out of her bed in a moment, scrambling for her blaster. She ran out the door and stopped, counting up to ten. Then she holstered her blaster and turned back.

  
  


Amidala was standing in the middle of Beru's room. She was fully dressed; the lights were on. Luke was awake, too. He lay on his side and clung to the rungs of his crib. His eyes were wide open, and fixed, not on his mother, but on her. Beru and Amidala stared at each other for what seemed a very long time.

  
  


"Didn't work, did it?" Beru said.

  
  


Amidala did not respond.

  
  


Beru circled to her left. She wanted to lure Amidala away from the baby's crib, but the younger woman wouldn't move.

  
  


"How did you set off the alarms?" Beru asked calmly. "With the Force? I'm just curious."

  
  


Still Amidala said nothing. Her hands hung at her sides. Her eyes were glassy.

  
  


Beru wondered if she could knock her over. Amidala was taller, but no heavier.

  
  


Finally Amidala moved. She rapidly drew her light saber and snapped it on. Beru didn't hesitate; she drew her blaster, set it on stun, and shot Amidala in the head. The younger woman fell to the ground. Not very graceful that time, either, Beru thought.

  
  


Beru stepped around Amidala, and lifted Luke into her arms. He seemed startled, but thankfully, was quiet. A child was crying, however. Beru realized that it was the little girl. She could not recall that she had ever heard the child's voice before. She carried Luke into Amidala's room. The little girl was wailing loudly in her crib. Luke stared at his twin, then looked at Beru. He seemed disconcerted. He was usually the vocalizer. In spite of the stuation, she smiled at him. 

  
  


"Don't worry, Luke, she's okay," she whispered. She put Luke into the crib and picked up his sister. She could tell that Luke did not care for this solution at all. She smiled again.

  
  


The little girl quickly calmed down, stuck a finger in her mouth, and inspected Beru with enormous dark eyes. She was beautiful, and strikingly like her mother. Beru could see nothing of Anakin in her features, and her Force signature strongly resembled Amidala's. That's why Amidala loves her, she thought. Luke was now articulating his dismay at Beru's desertion, but his decibel level was still reasonably low. 

  
  


The door opened. Beru turned to see Dr. Sydos standing there, wearing a robe and looking rumpled. He blinked at her.

  
  


"Amidala's in my bedroom," Beru said. "I had to stun her with my blaster. You'd better take a look at her." 

  
  


He turned white, and hurried out. Beru picked up Luke in her other arm and took both children into her room. Dr. Sydos was kneeling beside Amidala. He looked up at her.

  
  


"Why did you do this?" he asked.

  
  


"Why do you think?" Beru said impatiently. "I don't stun people as a recreational pastime, thank you very much! She set off the alarms to distract me, and then made a try at Luke. By the way, I didn't see you when the alarms went off. Why was that?"

  
  


He avoided her eyes, and didn't answer. He knew about it beforehand, Beru realized immediately. Amidala told him; she thinks he's an ally. She doesn't know he's playing both ends against the middle.

  
  


"I guess this is where we kick the wall," Beru said, putting both babies into Luke's crib. She kept a weather eye on them. Luke was not exactly delighted to share Beru with anybody else, let alone another baby. Beru feared he might express his displeasure graphically. 

  
  


"I intend to leave before she wakes up," she said. The doctor looked startled. Beru smiled. "In the interests of my own self-preservation. When she wakes up, she's going to be mad."

  
  


The doctor winced.

  
  


"I mean, she'll be angry," Beru correctly herself smoothly. "I'm taking Luke with me. It's just too dangerous to leave him."

  
  


The doctor nodded weakly.

  
  


"I can't manage two of them. You'll have to look after the little girl."

  
  


"She's in no danger. I'm sure of it."

  
  


"I certainly hope you're right. I've already packed."

  
  


"You were expecting this?"

  
  


"Just as much as you were," Beru said reprovingly. He could have warned her. The doctor flushed.

  
  


Beru had already raided the money supply. She had carefully gauged what she needed; she did not want to leave Amidala, the other twin, or Dr. Sydos short. The resort fees had been paid in advance.

  
  


"I'm taking the speeder to the space port," she said. " There's an early morning flight. We should be off before she recovers; if we're not, I'm relying on you to make sure she can't stop us."

  
  


She gave the doctor a hard look. He nodded shortly.

  
  


"Apologize to her Majesty for me, will you?" Beru said, gathering Luke in her arms. "Sorry about the stun blast. She may thank me for it someday, though somehow I doubt it."

  
  



	4. Chapter 4On the Lam

  
  


Chapter Four--On the Lam

  
  


"So now," Beru said to Luke later that day, "You and I are on the lam. We have a whole spectrum of people we need to avoid: your mother, your father, the Emperor, Obi-Wan, the rest of the Knights, the Jedi Extermination Squads, the Imperials--the list, if I do say so myself, is endless."

  
  


They were sitting in a passenger cabin of the tramp freighter *Ayidaman*. Beru had chosen it over more conventional transport, because she wished to leave as little trail as possible. It was also cheaper. But there were drawbacks. It was dangerous at times, and she would have to choose her spots carefully. She did not want to avoid the Imperials only to be sold to slavers. She had sensed that the captain of the *Ayidaman* was honest, or at least honest enough for her purposes.

  
  


The freighter was on a not-very-predictable route through the Middle Rim. Beru suspected that its captain and crew were smuggling on the side, but that was not her concern, unless they were maladroit at it. Boardings by the authorities would not suit her purpose; she could not afford to endanger herself or the baby. Her assessment of the captain of the freighter reassured her, though. Captain Trarch was a stolid, laconic man, and he did not appear to be a gambler, unless the odds favoured him by a good, long margin. He had accepted her money, and had not asked to see her papers. Though the fare he had asked was greater than scale, she noted. He knows something is up, she thought, but he doesn't consider the risk to himself great enough to turn down the money. Her failure to protest the higher fare probably confirmed his suspicions, but they needed to depart Nineveh quickly, and she did not feel like arguing. She and Luke had been allotted a cabin, small, dusty, and rather hot, but tolerable. Beru settled in. The crew were polite, but distant. Like their captain, they were not talkative.

  
  


But Beru did not know what Amidala would do, and she felt anxious about it. If she came after them, she would have to abandon her daughter to do so. Beru doubted that she would go that far--*if* she were in her right mind. If Dr. Sydos had more backbone, she might have relied upon him to prevent her, but Beru knew that he would not openly intervene. She hoped that Amidala would summon Obi-Wan to deal with it instead. She sighed. The political situation was desperate, and she doubted that he would be able to respond immediately. If so, she and Luke might be on the run for rather a long time.

  
  


The baby appeared quite content with his new situation, which rather surprised her. She had supposed that he would view their flight with anxiety, but he appeared calm, as long as he was within her orbit. The crew did not ask questions about him, but they had, to Beru's surprise, produced an array of children's toys for his amusement. They had offered these to her rather off-handedly, but she noticed the majority of the crew managed to be in the vicinity to see how their gift was received. She knew the drill; she thanked them profusely and they had been pleased.

  
  


Beru hoped to disembark on one of the Middle Rim planets on the freighter's route, but there was always some problem: political instability, Squad activity, Imperial interest, unsuitable culture, lousy weather. She wondered if she was afraid to leave the security of the *Ayidaman*. Probably. She knew that they would have to make the jump soon.

  
  


In the end, the decision was made for her. They had landed on Mycolo, a planet that she soon deemed unsuitable. It was run by huge agricultural concerns. The only city was small, and she feared that she and Luke would be too noticeable. She was heading back to the freighter when she encountered Captain Trarch. He was carrying her luggage on her back. Beru's stomach lurched.

  
  


He said, "I'm glad I caught you."

  
  


"Trouble?" Beru asked anxiously.

  
  


He nodded. "Imperials. They asked us if we had any passengers. I said no. They searched us anyway. The crew cleared your stuff out and hid it off-ship before they reached your cabin."

  
  


He put the luggage down. He dug in his pocket, and produced an object. Beru flushed. It was her light saber. He offered it to her. "You need to be more careful. If it had been a Squad, we couldn't have helped you."

  
  


Beru took it. "Thank you for your help," she said numbly.

  
  


He smiled thinly. "We don't want to be caught transporting Jedi. A good way to get your licence revoked, and your ship impounded."

  
  


Beru was silent. There was a good bounty being offered by the Empire to those who turned in fugitive Jedi. The Captain knew it as well as anybody. But she knew better than to mention it. 

  
  


The Captain was offering her something else. Automatically, Beru took it. She realized that it was her fare. She looked at him. He avoided her eyes.

  
  


"No-you earned this-"

  
  


He said, "You're going to need every credit you've got before you're through." He stared at the air above her head, "I've got kids myself-so do most of my crew. We won't say anything."

  
  


He handed her a folded paper. "This is the address of a local inn. They know me there. You can stay there for a couple of days. Then take the regular shuttle service to Mykonos. It's still in this system, but it's a better bet for a longer stay. That's the best I can do for you."

  
  


"I don't know why you would do this much."

  
  


"Not everybody believes the propaganda the Imps are spreading about the Jedi. But some people do, and others are greedy, so you want to be careful." He smiled at her, and ruffled Luke's hair. "Take care of the little guy, will you? The crew wanted me to bring his toys. They're packed with the rest of your things."

  
  


They shook hands, and with a wave, the Captain disappeared into the crowd. Beru felt chastened. She *had* been careless. It hadn't been disastrous, through sheer luck, but she would have do better in the future.

  
  


The inn Captain Trarch recommended proved to be much like the *Ayidaman,* clean, but not fancy, with something that hinted at discretion. The proprietors accepted them without comment after she mentioned the Captain's name. She decided to follow his advice and they took the regular shuttle to Mykonos a day later. There were no searches on the inter-system shuttles; at least, not yet.

  
  


*****

  
  


Looking back, Beru was never certain when her plans changed. At first, they had been simple: run for it and stay lost until Ben Kenobi returned to sort out the mess. No problem. Let *him* do the heavy lifting. Gradually, she began to realize that it might not be that simple. Suppose, for instance, that Ben did not believe her? Suppose he refused to believe that Amidala was a danger to her own son? Suppose she was accused of kidnaping? Assault, abduction, and theft. Great. I've never done anything like this before, Beru thought. Now I'm in trouble for sure. She had not really meant to stun Amidala, but the overwhelming fear she had felt from the baby had changed her mind. Luke had no illusions about his mother; he had known that he was in trouble.

  
  


Then there were other considerations. Like giving Luke back to his mother under any circumstances was quickly becoming a less and less viable option. He had decided that Beru was his mother. End of discussion, as far as he was concerned. And she was reluctantly beginning to agree with him. He was a high-maintenance child, and in her opinion needed full-time attention. He would never get that from Amidala, even if she overcame her fear and dislike of him; obviously the little girl was her favoured child. His mother hated him, his father was out of the question, and Obi-Wan's record at raising children was not encouraging. Would Amidala consider her as a possible foster parent? She doubted that swift stun blast she had given the young Queen would help her cause there. She had also reluctantly concluded that relying upon Obi-Wan to back her against Amidala was a mistake. Males, when faced with the young monarch of Naboo, tended not to think in straight lines. Luke was the exception there. Amidala's antipathy toward him was fully reciprocated. His mood had lightened as soon as they left Nineveh, and the exit from his mother's vicinity appeared to cheer him up immediately. The last of his colic disappeared, he gained more weight, and because of Amidala's rigorous separation of the children since their birth, he appeared not to miss his twin, either. He reveled in Beru's full attention. 

  
  


She couldn't help it: she had become fond of him. She couldn't say why. Once his health problems cleared up, he had become an attractive enough child, though not in his sister's league. At first his definite resemblance to his father had disturbed her, but after awhile, she ceased to notice it--he looked like himself. A small, rather thin baby, was pale straight hair, pale eyes, pale complexion. She had even stopped noticing the Force in him so much: when content, he didn't throw tantrums. But her presence was necessary for his contentment. She learned this the hard way. A single attempt to leave Luke with a babysitter had proved a disaster.

  
  


His mother had left her mark, for he was leery of strangers, tolerating them only when held by Beru. He tormented the unfortunate babysitter, howling at the top of his lungs during the whole of Beru's absence. Beru sensibly concluded that day-care was not an option.

  
  


This placed her in a dilemma. She had some carefully hoarded money, but it would not last forever. She had to therefore get a job. Luckily, she did have some useful training. She had qualified as a slicer, and had kept it up while with the Knights. Luke, however, was still breast feeding, and the thought of trying to wean him at this juncture made Beru wince. It would have to be a job where she could take him with her.

  
  


Then there was the problem of their lack of papers. Beru had a fake passport, nothing very fancy, but Luke had nothing, not even a birth certificate. Neither Obi-Wan nor Amidala had registered the children's birth. She had bought some high-grade computer time and altered her passport to include Luke. Not very well, but then forgery was not her area of expertise. So far no one had challenged her about the baby. If people see a small fair-haired woman carrying a small fair-haired child around, she thought, they assume said child is hers. Beru did not deceive herself regarding the consequences should they encounter a Jedi Extermination Squad. But so far, the Squads had concentrated on the Core Worlds and the Inner Rim. That would not last forever.

  
  


There were plenty of refugees from the Clone Wars about. It was easy enough to blend in. Beru told people that she was a war widow. No one questioned her story. No one doubted her when she said Luke was her son. But already Beru noticed that the Empire was tightening its grip. In certain places, stricter controls were being instituted. She would soon need better papers, a better story, a place to hide. She hid her light saber in inspections.

  
  


Finally there was an insidious little voice in her head--why go back at all? To face Amidala's retribution, and Obi-Wan's recriminations? To a situation that showed no sign of change and increasingly frustrated her? To face the Extermination Squads? Why not keep going? Find a place of her own. She hadn't had one since she was seventeen. She could take Luke with her. Why not? His mother didn't want him, but she did. Why lie to herself? She liked having a child of her own. Luke was a lot of trouble, yes, but oddly enough, Beru was happier than she could remember being in a long, long time. It was a complete change from her old life.

  
  


She grinned to herself. All she needed to do to obtain child care advice was stand in a line-up. Other women invariably commented on the baby, and were delighted if she asked their opinions on child-care matters. It beat holo-vids, and was a lot cheaper, too. Beru repeated her cover story so often, she had almost begun to believe it herself.

  
  


On the short-term, they could manage. But on the long-term? Could she raise Luke by herself? And where would they go? She was a space-brat and had no home planet. Her mother come from Alderaan, her father from Fektiz. She held citizenship on both planets. She felt Alderaan was too risky. It would be a prime target for the Squads. Fektiz was a Middle Rim planet, with a small trading zone, and vast stretches of territory under an interdict, due to hard-bomb contamination during the Wars. No place for baby, for one, and too hard to hide in, for another.

  
  


"Where shall we go?" she asked Luke. "Any ideas?" She had formed the habit of talking to him as though he were an adult. He didn't seem to mind, and even appeared to understand her conversation at times. Either that, or she was going spacey. His background was no help. He had been born on Nineveh, but that was obviously not an option. Naboo, his mother's planet was equally out of the question. She recalled that Anakin was from one of the Outer Rim planets--Tatooine, she thought. The same one as Ben. It was something--and not the only thing, alas--they had in common. Not a good idea, either. Beru sighed. "It's credit-flipping time, my child," she said to Luke, who laughed.

  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5The Understudy

Chapter 5--The Understudy

  
  


The credit toss yielded a name: Altranda-Yar, one of the two habitable planets (out of five) in the Yar system. At first, Beru was leery. The Yar system wasn't a settler one. The natives disliked humanoids. On the other hand, it would be an unusual place to find a Squad. She decided that it was worth exploring, anyway. She worried about dragging the child around incessantly, moving just for the sake of moving. Yet no place they had encountered so far had felt right. Her talent in the Force was purely instinctual. When she found the right place to hide, she was convinced that she would know it.

  
  


It soon proved that Altranda-Yar was not the place. Beru soon decided the planet offered too few opportunities for employment, but they were unable to leave immediately. Luke had picked up a virus in transit, and they were stuck in a small hostel for a full week while he recovered. As the time passed, Beru grew more and more anxious. Her alarm bells were ringing off the hook. On the last day of the week, her fears proved fully justified when she looked up from Luke's cot to discover a young man scowling at her from the doorway.

  
  


Beru recognized him immediately. It was Owen Lars.

  
  


She smiled ruefully to herself. Ben really thinks I'm a hard sell, I see, she thought, when he doesn't even come after us himself. Sends his younger brother to do the job. So easy a task, even Owen could do it. She sighed.

  
  


The Jedi Knights as a group managed to agree on just one thing: Owen Lars Kenobi was a complete zero. He was ten years younger than Ben, taller, heavier, darker and an absolute opposite in temperament. He had none of Ben's charm or charisma: he was a sullen, dour young man. He did have Force talent, but typically, perhaps, it was a negative one. He was what was known in Jedi history as a 'suppressor'-a Jedi who could damp or suppress the powers of other Force-adepts. Suppressors were relatively rare, and Owen, if his personality had been different, might have attracted a good deal of attention from the other Knights. But attention of any kind caused him to withdraw into himself. The other Knights quickly decided that there was nothing in him, and left him alone.

  
  


Beru could not say that she knew him well. In the five years that she had been Ben Kenobi's aide, he had always been around, scowling in the background. She had wondered why, if he was so unhappy, he did not just leave the Knights, but she had not cared enough to put this to him directly. She was adept at discerning other people's feelings--but she could not read Owen's. He could suppress himself as well. 

  
  


"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

  
  


"Ben sent me," he replied, gruffly.

  
  


"I know that! What do you want?"

  
  


"You took something that doesn't belong to you. Ben wants it back," he pointed at the baby. Luke stared up at Owen from the safety of Beru's arms. She could sense his anxiety. He turned and buried his face in her neck. 

  
  


"He's not going back," she said flatly.

  
  


"What's wrong with you, Beru? That kid isn't yours."

  
  


"What's your point?"

  
  


Owen scowled. "The point is, we're going back to Nineveh. Now! Get him ready."

  
  


"How? Are you planning to force me?"

  
  


"You don't have to come, if you don't want to. He does."

  
  


Beru sat down, and motioned Owen Lars to do the same. Somewhat to her surprise, he did so.

  
  


"Look, Owen, I didn't take him for no reason at all. I had to get him away from his mother."

  
  


"Why?"

  
  


"She was going to kill him." Even to Beru's own ears, it sounded lame.

  
  


Owen snorted. "She was going to kill her own son? Oh, come on."

  
  


"Did you talk to Dr. Sydos?"

  
  


"I didn't talk to anybody. Ben gave me his usual orders." This was said in such a deadpan tone, Beru could not tell if the remark was resentful or not.

  
  


"Which were?"

  
  


"Apparently Amidala told him you went crazy and made off with the kid. He told me to retrieve him."

  
  


"And do you believe that I'm crazy?"

  
  


Owen shrugged. He quite obviously hadn't bothered speculating.

  
  


"Ben doesn't believe it, does he?" Beru said shrewdly, "Otherwise, he'd have come after us himself."

  
  


Owen bristled. "Thank you for that vote of confidence," he snarled.

  
  


"Any time. And if you don't want to be called a lackey, don't act the part."

  
  


Owen surged to his feet. Glaring down at Beru, he hissed, "Get him ready. Now! No arguments-I'll take him from you if I have to."

  
  


Beru squared her chin, her eyes glittering. She got up, slowly and deliberately, hoisting Luke to her shoulder. She could feel that he was upset, and soothed him as much as she could. She opened her mouth and managed to say, "Wait here."

  
  


Owen stopped her. "Leave him with me."

  
  


Owen was fortunate that Beru could not kill with a look; otherwise, he would have been dead at her feet. She didn't move, so Owen came to her and took Luke from her stiff arms. The little boy began to wail, on a rising note of panic. 

  
  


"Hurry up," Owen said curtly.

  
  


Beru fled to the other room and began collecting her belongings as quickly as she could. Her hands were trembling. She could still hear Luke's protests from the other room; worse, she could feel his oncoming Force tantrum. It was cut off abruptly. She realized that Owen was suppressing it. He had his uses.

  
  


She stuffed everything hurriedly into two carryalls. When she returned to the outer room, she discovered Owen holding a howling Luke at arm's length. The Jedi looked as though he would sell his soul for a stiff drink. Stifling an unflattering description of Owen's ancestry and personal habits, she dropped the carryalls, and caught up the baby. He sobbed against her shoulder.

  
  


"It's all right, Luke, don't cry. I'm here. Don't cry, sweetheart."

  
  


The baby gradually stopped crying, hiccuping pathetically. Beru rubbed his back. Owen looked disgusted. 

  
  


"Is he always this noisy?" he asked.

  
  


Beru glared at him. "You're scaring him," she said coldly.

  
  


Owen muttered something unpleasant under his breath. Beru ignored it.

  
  


"Where are we going?" she asked.

  
  


"To Shakolt first," Owen said. Shakolt was the major planet in the neighbouring system. "We can't get a direct flight out from here; we're going to have to space-hop a bit. We don't want to attract attention, so Ben got me some fake ID. There's one for you, too, and the baby's on it."

  
  


Owen handed her a galaxy passport made out in the name of Nira Rallater, accompanied by infant son Narin.

  
  


"What's your name?" Beru asked suspiciously.

  
  


"Xell Rallater," Owen muttered.

  
  


"Oh, are we married? What a surprise!"

  
  


"It just looks better. Luckily the kid looks enough like you to pass as your son."

  
  


Beru had to agree. If Luke had shared his sister's looks, it might never have worked. But his fair colouring was a good match for hers, and they both had a square chin. It would cover the fact that he looked nothing like Owen Lars.

  
  


Altranda-Yar had a regular daily shuttle flight to and from Shakolt. Owen had caught the flight in, and he hurried them down to the space port to catch the same-day flight out. He wants to get out of here before I can think of a way to shake him, Beru thought bitterly. As they waited for the shuttle, some of the other waiting passengers at the port smilingly complimented her on Luke's seraphic appearance. That's all they know, she grinned to herself. Luke was, for a wonder, quiet. Owen Lars' suppression of his Force-tantrum appeared to subdue him. However, Beru considered Owen to be the weak link in the illusion. He had no notion of how to behave like a convincing husband and father; he stood by himself on the landing platform, scowling to himself and ignoring her and Luke. She intercepted several sympathetic looks from the other passengers. Sighing, she carried Luke over to where Owen was standing, and muttered into his ear, "You're blowing it."

  
  


"What?'

  
  


"At least *try* to look as though we sleep together."

  
  


Owen turned bright red.

  
  


"You're supposed to be my husband and--" she searched her memory for Luke's alias--"Narin's father. Talk to me. Chuck him under the chin, for Hoth's sake. Look as though we have some connection to you. And stop scowling!"

  
  


Owen's blush faded. Almost painfully, he smoothed out his features, and rearranged them into a hard, tight-lipped smile. 

  
  


"Will this do?" He whispered sarcastically.

  
  


"You look homicidal. Here," she reached into the carryall and gave him a baby toy, "Play with him."

  
  


Gritting his teeth, Owen offered the toy to Luke, who took it and staring at Owen as he did so, immediately dropped it. It looked deliberate, and Beru reckoned it was. She knew enough about Luke not to underestimate him. Owen, with an air of exaggerated patience, stooped down and retrieved it. When he gave the toy back to Luke, he kept one end of it in his hand. He's learning, Beru thought, amused.

  
  


Later, when Owen went to collect their boarding passes, he took Luke with him. Beru supposed he feared that she would bolt with the baby if he left him alone with her, and she admitted to herself that he was probably right. While she stewed about her situation, a young man appeared beside her. 

  
  


"Going to Shakolt?" he asked. Beru nodded absently, still mentally examining her predicament.

  
  


"That's nice. So am I. Perhaps I could buy you a drink after we board?"

  
  


Beru was a little amused. Toting a baby around on her hip had insulated her from this sort of approach for the last few months. She was no longer used to it. He won't be so interested when he sees Luke, she thought to herself. Inadvertently, she smiled. The young man smiled back at her.

  
  


Laughing a little, she said, "You're too kind."

  
  


"Not at all," he responded. "I was just dazzled by the beauty standing in front of me."

  
  


Laying it on thick, Beru thought, laughing again.

  
  


Suddenly Beru became aware of a fiercely hostile presence. Owen was standing behind her, Luke squirming restlessly in his arms. Usually she could not discern Owen's feelings at all, due to his ability to suppress them through the Force. Not this time, though. He was glowering at her would-be admirer.

  
  


"Oh, this is my husband--Xell. And my son."

  
  


The man's face fell, but he gave Owen a brave smile, and said, "Pleased to meet you."

  
  


Owen didn't answer. Wordlessly, he handed Luke to Beru. The young man's face looked woeful as he inspected the baby. Still glaring, Owen gave a jerk of his head, which clearly indicated in which direction he wished the interloper to go. The hint was quickly taken. Owen scowled bitterly at his retreating back. Luke, observing Owen's expression with interest, quickly produced an infant version of it, which sat curiously on his unformed features. Beru couldn't help herself: she laughed. Owen was unamused.

  
  


"And you complained about me," he whispered angrily to Beru, "You're supposed to be a wife and mother and here you are flirting with space port trash!"

  
  


Beru swallowed a hasty retort. Owen *was* right--they were both still acting like free agents.

  
  


"All right, point taken. I thought he was harmless. And you were great. I didn't know you had it in you."

  
  


Owen looked confused. "What do you mean?"

  
  


"That imitation of someone whose territory has just been invaded! It was priceless!" She laughed again, but Owen still didn't smile.

  
  


She said, "Seriously, Owen, we have to get our cover story straight. As it is, we'd never get past an Imperial interrogation."

  
  


Owen agreed sullenly. He had booked a tiny stateroom on the ship, and they used it to rehearse their story in private. Under her surface complaisance, though, Beru's mind was ticking away, considering every angle of her situation. Shakolt was still a few hours away. It was large, heavily populated planet, and she didn't doubt that she and Luke could give Own the slip there, given the right circumstances. 

  
  


She put Luke down for a nap. Luckily, he was tired, and dropped off quickly. She took off her shoes and laid down beside him in the bunk.

  
  


"Well," she said to Owen, "where do we go after Shakolt?" Better try to make him think that she had given up on escaping, though she wasn't sure he was at all convinced by the act.

  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6Doubled

  
  


Chapter Six--Doubled

  
  


They arrived at Shakolt to discover that the next shuffle flight to Aosta, Owen's planned destination, had been delayed due to a mechanical failure. Beru felt her spirits rise. Owen, not surprisingly, was exasperated. "Great," he muttered.

  
  


Shakot's capital city was a large one, and they had no trouble finding a space in a hostel, so that they could wait in some comfort. Beru looked for an opportunity to give Owen the slip. She found, however, that Owen did not let Luke out of his sight. He was also naturally suspicious; if she went to the 'fresher, he kept the baby with him. Beru tried logic, wheedling, even bribery. Nothing worked: Owen was unmoved. Beru began to see why he had proved so useful to his brother. 

  
  


She decided tougher measures were in order. She would have to spend rather too much money on them, which was unfortunate. But she saw no other alternative. That afternoon, while Owen was distracted in the capitol's shopping district, she was able to make a purchase.

  
  


So the next day, when they stood in the line-up for the shuttle flight to Aosta, Beru was delighted to see that there would be a search. Just what she had hoped. She held Luke tightly.

  
  


Owen was bored by the search, and submitted with bad grace. When the security agents discovered a sealed packet in his tunic, he was astonished. 

  
  


"What is this, sir?" the senior agent asked him.

  
  


Owen stared at it. "I don't know what it is! I've never seen it before!"

  
  


The senior agent ripped it open, and sniffed the powder inside cautiously. He gave his colleague a significant look. 

  
  


"Spice," he said.

  
  


"But that's not mine!" Owen cried. "Somebody must have planted in on me!" His eyes came to rest on Beru. She gave him a bland look.

  
  


"By the gods, Beru," he said, "You're a ruthless woman."

  
  


"Do you know this man, madam?" the senior agent asked.

  
  


Beru schooled her features into polite confusion. "No, gentlemen, I don't. We were just standing beside each other in the line. And my name isn't Beru--it's Nira, Nira Rallater." She offered them her galaxy passport. 

  
  


"I'm her husband," Owen said, "See? Here's my passport--" he fumbled for it.

  
  


"It's gone!" he said, staring accusingly at Beru.

  
  


In fact, it was currently residing, tightly wrapped, in Luke's diaper. Beru planned to sell it to recoup the expense of buying the contraband. She gave the officers a blank look, "I'm sorry, gentlemen. I've never seen this man before. And I would certainly never have anything to do with smuggling spice."

  
  


"You bitch!" Owen swore. His temper, Beru noted with interest, was his undoing. It was convincing the security agents of his guilt. 

  
  


"Quiet, you," the senior agent said, cuffing Owen none too gently. "Sorry, madam. You go ahead."

  
  


Beru looked Owen in the eyes. He suddenly seemed to remember that making enough fuss to attract Imperial attention was unwise. He visibly collected himself and looked back at her, his face hard. Beru felt a chill. When he controlled his rage, he was far more formidable.

  
  


She turned away and entered the shuttle. Grimly, Owen watched her go. Luke stared over Beru's shoulder at Owen until the sliding doors hid him from view.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7Redoubled

Chapter Seven--Redoubled

  
  


Beru supposed that she ought to feel guilty for framing Owen Lars as a spice smuggler. Not to mention stealing his fake passport. But she didn't; in fact, what really disturbed her was how much she had enjoyed it. She knew she would pay a price for that enjoyment, too. Owen was not going to be tied by the heels forever. He'd be back on their trail in short order; and in no very cheery mood when he got there. The only question was how long it would take. 

  
  


She and Luke went on to Aosta as planned, it being too late to dodge the shuttle. When they got there, she deliberately doubled back to Shakolt, and caught a shuttle going in the opposite direction, which proved to be Djerba Station. This wasn't a planet, but an orbiting space station that operated as an important transportation axis on the edge of the Shakolt cluster. An even better spot than Shakolt to make a complete getaway, Beru thought.

  
  


In the interests of making herself less memorable to the officials, Beru attached herself to a group of refugees from the Core Worlds. Several of them had babies or small children, and she and Luke attracted no attention in their midst. 

  
  


The refugees were, like her, looking for a place to hide. Beru found their presence comforting. She began, after the passage of several weeks, to feel more confident. Maybe Owen had given it up as a bad job. Maybe he wasn't still looking for them. And, even better, maybe they had lost him.

  
  


At that point, Beru relaxed a little. Which was, as she later acknowledged, a mistake. 

  
  


The refugee band had decided to look at Ghazni, a zone planet. The zone was the area between the Middle and the Outer Rim. There was little policing, plenty of lawlessness, and several planets and planet clusters that called no one, not the Republic and not the Empire, master.

  
  


Ghazni was a planet that wanted to ally itself to some form of order. It had been recently opened up to settlement under the aegis of the Empire. That might have given Beru pause, except she concluded that it would mean Owen Lars would never expect her to choose it. 

  
  


The Ghaznians, in their eagerness for settlers, had provided transition housing for them. The quality was higher than Beru had become used to. She and Luke were allotted in a small flat, and signed up for resettlement. Beru was not exactly sure that they would stay on Ghazni, but it was a convenient spot to lay low.

  
  


Beru was congratulating herself, yet again, on giving Owen Lars the slip, when the door of her flat burst open. Owen stood in the doorway, framed by two Ghaznian officials. He was dressed, she noted with horror, in the regalia of an Imperial civilian agent.

  
  


Owen gave her a pleasant smile. "Here she is," he said to the officials, "and the baby, too. Good."

  
  


Beru jumped to feet, and ran to Luke's crib, but it was too late. The officials politely but firmly took her arms and led her away from the crib. Luke stared at them, wide-eyed. 

  
  


Beru looked at the officials. "He's not with the Empire--"

  
  


"Here's the court order for apprehension of the child," Owen interrupted smoothly. "Signed by your local governor and counter-signed by the Zone Commandant."

  
  


"He's my son!" Beru said.

  
  


"Poor woman," Owen said, in a sorrowful voice, "She has delusions, you know. Kidnaped the child from his real parents, too. Very sad case." Out of range of the officials, he gave her a triumphant smirk.

  
  


Beru was fiercely angry; she wanted to rearrange Owen's expression with a blunt, heavy object, but then she remembered how much pleasure his rage on Shakolt had given her. She took a firm grip on her emotions, and schooled her face to a deadpan expression. Owen's smirk faded; he now looked wary.

  
  


"You have the concurrent detention Order, right?" Owen said to the officials. "That will allow you to keep her here until an Offence Unit arrives to deal with her. I'll take the child with me and restore him to his parents. They'll be overjoyed."

  
  


That's true, in a sick sort of way, Beru thought to herself. She'll be overjoyed all right. And he'd be an easy target. She looked at Luke. 

  
  


Owen went over to him, and lifted him out of the crib. Luke looked at Beru. She made no move. Her face was expressionless.

  
  


Owen gave her a gloating look, and bore Luke off. Beru was left with the two officials, who regretfully confiscated her passport, while assuring her that she could stay in the flat until the Unit arrived. There was no Unit coming, Beru knew, but she said nothing.

  
  


After the officials left, Beru lay down on her bed. Luke's empty crib was still within her line of vision. A detention Order! Owen obviously expected her to chase after him, and had taken precautions to prevent it. He needn't have bothered. Beru had no intention of going anywhere. She knew she didn't need to. 

  
  


Owen, of course, knew nothing about small children, and it did not occur to him that separating an unweaned infant from his wet-nurse would cause any sort of problem. Beru smiled to herself, nastily. He was in for a big surprise. She fully expected to see Owen back again within two days.

  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8And Vulnerable

Thanks for the reviews, folks. I doubted that there would be much audience for this story, once you got past its not-particularly-accurate summary, so the feedback is appreciated. The plot is about to thicken...

  
  
  
  


Chapter Eight--And Vulnerable

  
  


In the end, it took *three* days. Owen Lars was a stubborn man.

  
  


Sitting in her room, Beru heard Luke's screams before she saw either him or Owen. They were quite literally earsplitting, and continuous. She could not feel his presence through the Force, though; Owen was successfully suppressing that. To judge by his appearance, though, the effort was draining him. Owen's face was grey, his clothing disheveled and covered in food stains, and he was holding Luke gingerly in front of him. Luke's shrieks changed to wails when he saw Beru. He held out his small arms to her.

  
  


Beru acted on instinct. She jumped up and snatched the child from Owen.

  
  


Owen, slumping into a nearby chair, released Luke's Force-sense. The shock of it nearly knocked Beru over. She felt an overwhelming sense of fear, anger, hunger and discomfort coming from the child. Beru sat down abruptly, the baby in her arms. She hitched up her tunic, exposed one milk-swollen breast and put him to it. The wails stopped; the tantrum ended abruptly; the child took the breast as though he was starving. He probably was. She looked up and saw that Owen was trying not to stare, without success.

  
  


"Enjoying the show?" she asked sardonically. Owen flushed darkly, finally averting his eyes.

  
  


While Luke nursed, Beru inspected him. He had lost weight. He appeared grubby, and he smelled none too sweet.

  
  


"Why didn't you look after him?" Beru asked angrily. "He's dirty. And--" she pulled his diaper down for a better look, "he's got diaper rash."

  
  


"Serves him right," Owen muttered. "I did my best, but he wouldn't eat anything. He didn't sleep. And he never stopped screaming the entire time."

  
  


"He's not weaned, you idiot! What did you expect, that he would eat prep-rations?"

  
  


Owen looked guilty.

  
  


"That's what you tried feeding him, isn't it?" Beru said, rolling her eyes.

  
  


"He spat it out," Owen muttered.

  
  


"It's a good thing he did. It's far too hard and dry; he couldn't have digested it."

  
  


"I mixed it with water! What do you want from me?"

  
  


"Did you even *try* a bottle?" Beru asked, exasperated.

  
  


"Yeah, I did. No luck. He wouldn't even look at it."

  
  


Beru bit her lip. Quarreling with Owen Lars wouldn't help matters. After a pause, she said in a milder tone, "So, how far did you get?"

  
  


"Azurea," Owen said sullenly. " I finally clued in to the fact that I couldn't get him all the way out of the zone before he starved to death or I went crazy. I couldn't take him out in public. People thought I was torturing him, or something, he screamed so much. We just attracted too much attention. If I didn't suppress him, his Force-tantrums kept me up all night; if I did suppress him, I had to stay awake to do it. And that didn't stop his regular tantrums, either. I haven't slept since we left."

  
  


"Don't expect any sympathy from me," Beru said coldly. "Go to bed. There's one in the next room. I'll look after him."

  
  


Owen heaved himself out of his chair, and stood awkwardly beside her for moment, looking down in a baffled way at the now blissful Luke. Finally, he shambled meekly out of the room. Beru was relieved. She was afraid that if he stayed, she might damage him. Once the second day after their departure had ended, she had panicked, torn between waiting it out and chasing after them. The previous day had been a nightmare, and her nerves were shattered.

  
  


It took Beru nearly two hours to feed Luke and calm him--and herself--down. Finally, when he started dozing off, Beru gently detached him from her breast. She gave him a quick bath, and changed him. When she saw the actual extent of his diaper rash, she contemplated blasting Owen Lars into the next system. She also discovered that their expedition had another sequel: Luke refused to be put down in his crib and clung to her like a Mynock to a power cable. She slept that night sitting up in her bed, the baby cradled in her arms. 

  
  


Beru didn't see Owen Lars again until noon the next day. He still looked half asleep when he shuffled in. She was sitting at the table in the kitchen area, eating a belated breakfast, the baby on her lap. When they caught sight of each other, Luke and Owen scowled in unison.

  
  


"Stop that!" she hissed at Owen.

  
  


"He started it!" 

  
  


"He's a baby. You're the adult. Allegedly."

  
  


Owen came over to the table and sat down heavily. He observed Beru helping Luke to drink juice from her glass, and scowled. "When I tried that, he'd spit it up in my face."

  
  


"He was mad at you."

  
  


Owen was silent for a moment. Then he said quietly, "Beru, doesn't he scare you?"

  
  


Beru looked at him, but didn't answer. She set down the juice glass.

  
  


"If he's like this as a baby, what's he going to be like later on?" Owen asked, "Have you thought about it?"

  
  


Beru shrugged. "Yes, of course. But what's the solution? Do you agree with Amidala, then?"

  
  


"No. But I can see how she came to it."

  
  


"I can't."

  
  


"You don't think clearly about him, Beru."

  
  


"I know what you're thinking," Beru said tiredly. "Poor pathetic Beru, can't have children of her own, so she's fixated on this one. But it isn't that. I never wanted to be his wet-nurse, or have anything to do with him, for that matter. That damned doctor dragooned me into it. So I did it, and after awhile, I recognized something about him. Something familiar. One day when I was seventeen years old, I woke up in a strange med-center and discovered that my past and my future were both lost forever. In a different way, that's happened to Luke, too. I know how he feels. He may be only a baby, but he knows something has gone terribly wrong with his life already. His father's gone bad, his mother's gone mad--it's almost poetic, isn't it?--and he *knows* it. That's the source of the tantrums. It's the only way he can express himself."

  
  


"Then why doesn't he have them with you?"

  
  


"He did, until I started breast-feeding him. Dr. Sydos said he needed someone to bond with. As it turned out, he was right. I'm also fairly sure that he could sense that Amidala was a danger to him. Just think about it. You're trapped in a tiny body, unable to walk or talk, and your mother goes homicidal on you. Wouldn't you be scared? Well, I would, too. He knew he had to look around for help. You know, the doctor actually wanted me to breast feed the baby so I could protect him. I'm willing to bet that Luke shared that view completely. He needed a protector and a provider. I was the only available candidate, and was elected unanimously. The tantrums were designed to attract my attention."

  
  


"Are you saying that he's manipulating you?" Owen asked, astonished.

  
  


Beru sighed. "No. Well, not consciously, anyway. He's a very small child with a very big and volatile Force talent. I'm not really sure what he can actually sense through the Froce, or if an adult would recognize it; it must be on a very basic level, given his age. But he knows the bottom line."

  
  


"Don't you think you ought to take him back and let Ben deal with him?" Owen's voice now had a pleading note. 

  
  


Beru said, shaking her head, "I'm not sure Ben wouldn't agree with Amidala."

  
  


"He wouldn't. You know that."

  
  


"Do I? I'm not sure that I know anything about Ben anymore. What would he do with Luke? The probable answer to that question is that he would give him back to his mother. I don't see Luke lasting a day in her company in her current state of mind."

  
  


"He wouldn't give him back to Amidala."

  
  


"He's never refused her anything. Well, let me amend that-he did once." They both knew what it had been. "And she's been making him pay for it ever since."

  
  


They looked uneasily at each other.

  
  


Beru ruffled Luke's white-blonde hair, and without looking directly at Owen, said, "Have you heard the rumors?"

  
  


He didn't ask which rumors she meant. He shrugged.

  
  


"Do you think they're true?" Beru asked him.

  
  


"It would explain a lot, wouldn't it?" Owen said. Beru sensed that this was as close as he would go to criticism of his brother.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9Bakanir

  
  


Chapter 9-Bakanir

  
  


There was an old Gamorrean folk tale about two Gamorrean boars who fought over an available sow. They drew weapons at the same time and covered each other with them. Since Gamorreans were famous for their stupidity, as well as their violence, instead of backing off, they both shot each other in the head, thereby ending their dispute. This story had entered the galaxy lexicon as the 'Gamorrean Stand-off.' Beru feared that she and Owen had reached the same point. Neither had any practical means of getting rid of the other, save terminal violence. Owen could not take the baby anywhere without Beru. And Beru's chances of shaking Owen off seemed small.

  
  


Not, of course, that she wouldn't try it.

  
  


The next attempt included locking Owen in a deserted cabin on an interplanetary shuttle on the Middle Rim, and running for it, Luke tucked under her arm. She dodged the furious Owen for nearly ten days, but she knew he wasn't far behind her. 

  
  


At the end of the ten days, she had ended up on Bakanir, a Middle Rim planet, just out of the zone. It was, oddly enough, a well-known place throughout the galaxy. When Beru was a child, there had been a series of exceedingly popular holoflicks, called "Famous Space Cadet." The Space Cadet in question had three sidekicks, one of them Bakaniri. He had exhibited stereotypical Bakaniri characteristics--they were notorious for their rigid codes of honor, their quarrelsomeness, and their gallantry. 

  
  


Beru discovered this soon after she arrived. The local security agents apologized profusely for searching her, and their middle-aged Captain pressed help and advice on her. At first, Beru was wary, yet she could sense nothing but sincerity from him.

  
  


"Nice young lady like you, and with a young baby, you shouldn't be traveling alone," he admonished her. 

  
  


"Um, thank you, Captain--"

  
  


"Captain Rijdan. Now, I'll recommend a hotel for you, nice family place, they'll look after you there. And one of my agents can escort you there. You shouldn't be out on the streets by yourself."

  
  


Beru thanked him, and he beamed at her. The young agent who escorted her treated her as though she was made of fine china, and the staff of the hotel to which he ushered her greeted her like long-lost family. The Bakaniri had reputations in the rest of the galaxy as looney eccentrics, Beru thought, but she felt that the rest of the galaxy could use some of this type of looniness.

  
  


The next morning, Beru looked around the capital, and was very pleased by its beauty and its attractive inhabitants. Why did people say that the Bakaniri were dangerous? So far she had experienced nothing but kindness from them.

  
  


But the young man who surged out of the crowd to grab her arm was not Bakaniri. It was the ever-persistent Owen Lars. Beru swore under her breath. Luke scowled.

  
  


"Remember me?" Owen rasped, holding her elbow tightly.

  
  


"Too well."

  
  


"Oh, good. Then maybe you also remember locking me in a stateroom on the Kandr shuttle?"

  
  


"Can't say that I do."

  
  


"Well, *I* remember it! Very well indeed."

  
  


"Congratulations," Beru said drily.

  
  


"Don't you know this planet's reputation? Even the Empire doesn't interfere with the Bakaniri. Stupid place to choose! Typical of you."

  
  


"I like it here," Beru said rebelliously.

  
  


"Too bad! We're leaving!" Owen said. "Where are you staying?"

  
  


Beru tried to convince Owen to stay on Bakanir, at least for a time, but he was angry with her, and in no mood to listen, and even less to compromise. He hustled her to her hotel and ordered her to pack. The hotel staff was horrified by his bad manners and rough speech toward a lady. Beru was inclined to agree with them. 

  
  


Once they were ready, Owen hurried Beru and Luke to the Bakaniri capital's shuttle port. The first person they encountered, no big surprise, was the gallant security Captain Beru had met the day before.

  
  


Captain Rijdan bowed to Beru and smiled at her. "Nice to see you again, ma'am. Can I help you with anything?" he said, with his usual gallantry. He focused on Owen, his smile fading. "Who is this gentleman?" he asked.

  
  


Owen scowled at him. Idiot, Beru thought to herself. He can't be ingratiating to save his life or anyone else's. She remembered that Owen annoyed her. So she pretended to swallow a small sob, and buried her face in Luke's hair. "He's-he's the father of my baby."

  
  


That was their cover story, of course, but her obvious emotion made Owen stare.

  
  


Captain Rijdan said, perplexed, "He's your husband?"

  
  


"No," Beru said, covering her face with one of her hands, "He refused to marry me."

  
  


"That's a lie!" Owen shouted. "That kid isn't mine--!"

  
  


"Are you sayin', sir, that this lady is a liar?" the Captain said, in a chilly voice.

  
  


"Yes!" Owen snapped.

  
  


"Now, sir, why should she lie?"

  
  


Owen lost his temper. "Because she's a slut!" he hissed.

  
  


The Captain drew his hand back and deliberately slapped Owen across the face, hard. Owen, taken by surprise, lost his footing and stumbled. "You, sir, are no gentleman," the Captain said icily. "I intend to defend this lady's honor, which you have besmirched. Choose your weapons."

  
  


Owen gaped at him, still stunned from the blow. "What do you mean? I won't fight you."

  
  


"Yes, you will, sir."

  
  


"This is a joke! I'm not going to fight anybody."

  
  


"This is Bakanir, and you'll obey our laws. If you're challenged, especially in a matter of honor, you must fight. If you refuse, you'll be forced to defend yourself."

  
  


"You can't do that!" Owen said, stunned, still holding his aching cheek.

  
  


Captain Rijdan set his jaw, and then used his com-link to summon the local gendarmerie. Owen appeared unable to move. Beru could not believe how quickly her deception had gotten out of hand. She knew that she should intervene, but Owen's name-calling irked her so much that she decided not to. Let him stew in his own juice.

  
  


"Where are you taking him?" she asked the Captain, as Owen was dragged away. He still looked stunned.

  
  


"He'll be locked up until the duel tomorrow. I greatly regret, ma'am, that this altercation took place in front of you. Not a sight for a lady's eyes."

  
  


Usually Beru found Bakaniri gallantry refreshing; for the first time, she felt irritation instead. "It's all right," she muttered.

  
  


"And I regret, ma'am, that you've been so mistreated by this cad. It must be a great grief to you."

  
  


"Yes, yes---but Captain, what's going to happen tomorrow?"

  
  


"Well, tomorrow, I intend to kill him. The stain on your honor must be erased."

  
  


Beru's anger evaporated. "Kill him!" she exclaimed.

  
  


"Yes, indeed. Don't you fret, ma'am. I'll dispatch him quickly. Your family honour will be redeemed," he smiled at her in a happy way, sure that she was delighted with him.

  
  


Beru decided that she was not *that* much of a Gamorrean. "Captain Rijdan," she said, "you don't really want to kill him---even if he is a cad---do you?"

  
  


The Captain straightened his shoulders proudly. "It's the duty of every Bakaniri male to defend the honor and good name of defenseless females," he said. "I'm proud to assist you, ma'am. My family history and honor demands that I do so. My record is spotless, and I have every intention of keeping it that way."

  
  


"What, have you done this before?" Beru asked, shifting her weight uneasily.

  
  


"Yes, twenty-seven times. This will be twenty-eight, one of the best records on the planet. Though, I have to admit, my second cousin has twenty-nine. I'm hoping to catch up. If I reach thirty, they'll allow my name to be posted in the Hall of Honor." His eyes shone at the thought. 

  
  


Beru felt dizzy. Licking her lips, she said, "Captain, could I see him? Please? I need to talk to him."

  
  


"Ma'am, he'll soil your ears with insults."

  
  


"My ears can stand it. Please," Beru forced herself to bat her eyelashes at him. He brightened. "Of course, if you want to."

  
  


It took nearly two hours before Beru, still carrying Luke, was ushered into the cell block where Owen sat in a tiny, but clean, cell. He had a nasty bruise on his face. His expression, though, outdid the bruise.

  
  


Beru asked the jailer for privacy, again batting her eyelashes. They were beginning to ache with the effort. He gave her a bemused smile and complied, much to her relief.

  
  


She turned to Owen, and scowled at him through the Force field. "Slut, am I?"

  
  


"You asked for that! How dare you tell that moron that I knocked you up?"

  
  


"Look, Owen, all I wanted was to shake you off."

  
  


"I'll bet."

  
  


"Oh, if only you knew how tempted I am to leave you to your own devices! Do you realize that dueling is a sport on this planet? The good Captain has twenty-seven notches on his belt, and he's looking to make you the twenty-eighth. Thirty and he becomes some king of local hero."

  
  


"I can take care of myself," Owen said, looking away.

  
  


"Sure you can. What weapons will you choose? Light sabers? That'll make the locals take notice! Not to mention the Imperials!"

  
  


"No, blasters'll do," Owen muttered.

  
  


"Owen, I just told you, this man is a professional. Besides, his intent is good. He thinks he is defending my poor little honor from your wicked ways. You can't try to kill him for that! We have to think of another way out."

  
  


"Like what? Tell him the truth?"

  
  


"No, stupid. He's the sort that would never believe that a poor little female like me would actually tell *lies.* No, honor makes this planet go round. He's eager to punctuate you, but maybe I can convince him otherwise. I want you to play along."

  
  


Owen rolled his eyes, but didn't argue further. Beru, with some difficulty, convinced the jailer to summon Captain Rijdan by com-link. The Captain bustled in, full of righteous anger. 

  
  


"Well, ma'am, was I right? Did he insult you?" He glared at Owen.

  
  


"No, no, Captain," Beru said soothingly, "he's been a perfect gentleman. In fact, I want to ask you a favor."

  
  


"Anything, ma'am, anything."

  
  


"Well," Beru lowered her eyes shyly, "Captain, as much as I appreciate you defending my honor, I have to say that I wish you wouldn't. If you kill him, my poor little boy will be without a father." She gave Luke a Force nudge and he obligingly began to whimper, thus providing the proper ambience. "Owen has agreed to provide for the baby-haven't you, Owen? And a dead man can't pay child support," she smiled ingratiatingly at the Captain.

  
  


Owen nodded, looking grim.

  
  


Captain Rijdan looked briefly disappointed. Then he smiled and said, "Well, I sure am pleased that you want to do the right thing by your son, sir. But something's missing, don't you think?"

  
  


"What?" Owen said, suspiciously.

  
  


"You called this lady a despicable name. Apologize at once."

  
  


"Sorry," Owen muttered, not looking at Beru.

  
  


"No gracious apology, but an apology nonetheless," the Captain said coolly, "And you admit that you seduced her?"

  
  


Owen grimaced. Then he nodded stiffly. Beru could tell that it was killing him to do so. She couldn't suppress a grin.

  
  


"I can't hear you," the Captain snapped.

  
  


"Yes, I seduced her," Owen said in a strangled voice.

  
  


"And abandoned her, without marrying her."

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"And you impregnated her."

  
  


Owen's mouth quivered. Beru thought he *would* deny that one. But finally, after what seemed like a very long pause, he said, "Yes."

  
  


"And you refused to acknowledge your own son."

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"Good. I'm glad to hear you admit it like a man. Now what are we going to do about it?"

  
  


"I'll provide for the child."

  
  


"That won't cover her shame! Are you prepared to marry her? Give your son your name?"

  
  


Beru felt her mouth fall open. Owen noticed this.

  
  


"Yes," he said, shooting her an evil look.

  
  


"Excellent!" the Captain said, beaming. "Well, then, ma'am, we'll have ourselves a wedding instead of a duel."

  
  


"No---Captain---I have a large family on Nineveh," Beru stammered, "We'll be married there. I want them to be present. Just let him go and we'll arrange a wedding at home." She could tell that Owen Lars was enjoying her discomfort. Damn him anyway.

  
  


"Nonsense, ma'am! No need to advertise to all and sundry that the marriage was a little late!" he winked at her. "You must consider your good name. Besides," he said, glancing at Owen, "we've got him to the sticking-point, and we don't want him to change his mind, do we? I prefer to make sure that he fulfills every last one of his obligations---personally."

  
  


"But---but---" Beru could not believe it.

  
  


"I know that you're grateful, ma'am, but don't bother thanking me---I'm happy to do it. It shouldn't take any time at all to arrange the ceremony."

  
  


The Captain, unfortunately, was as good as his word. He bore Beru and Luke off to his residence, assuring her that his wife and daughters would be happy to help her with the wedding. He refused, however, to release Owen from jail. At least not yet. "Not until the ceremony," he said firmly.

  
  


Judging from the males of the species, Beru decided that Bakaniri women must be shy and delicate flowers of femininity. It was therefore a surprise to her to meet the Captain's female relatives. His wife and three adult daughters were all tall, strapping and attractive, and dressed in a florid style. While the Captain was present, they addressed him and each other in a cooing, demure way. But as soon as he left, their manner changed.

  
  


"Well, honey," Madame Rijdan said loudly, "Got yourself into a fix, didn't you? Happens to the best of us! Hope it was worth it!" She brayed with laughter and her daughters joined in. 

  
  


"I-I-" Beru stammered. She had no idea why she was so embarrassed.

  
  


"Now, love, don't you worry! My husband just loves rescuing damsels in distress! I hear that he's persuaded your man to do the right thing. At the point of a blaster, maybe, but I'm sure you don't mind that, do you?" She led another chorus of loud laughter. Beru felt outnumbered and overwhelmed. She longed to escape.

  
  


Luke was staring wide-eyed at the women from the shelter of Beru's arms. Madame Rijden smiled at him.

  
  


"Now, isn't he a sweetie! Does he look like his father?"

  
  


"No," Beru said, though in fact, he did. He just didn't look like Owen.

  
  


"Well, men can be right clods, sometimes. Baby doesn't look like them and they get all hot and bothered about it! He looks like his mama, anyway. Let me hold him-!"

  
  


She scooped the baby into her arms. Beru expected Luke-who generally hated strangers-to protest, but he appeared to be mesmerized. Beru knew how he felt.

  
  


"Now we'll just put this little soldier down for a nap and then we can get to work."

  
  


"Work? At what?" Beru asked, distracted.

  
  


"Your dress, honey. And your hair. No offense meant, but if you want to keep your man, you'd better work harder at it than you have up to now. That outfit you've got on-! Just awful! And that haircut! No wonder the poor man ran for it, if you don't mind my saying so. Not to worry, though. You're a pretty girl under it all, I can see. We'll fix your hair--and we'll alter something for you to wear."

  
  


They descended upon Beru like a flock of feral, toothy birds, pecking and cawing.


	10. Chapter 10The BlasterPoint Wedding

  
  


Chapter 10-The Blaster-Point Wedding

  
  


The next day, Beru stood in the parlor-hall of the Rijdan townhouse, hoping she might die at any moment. The Rijdan womenfolk had just showed her their handiwork in a large mirror on the wall. She looked---there was no other word for it--hideous beyond description. The dress she wore was a beautiful one, made of creamy Arachnine spider-silk, but the heavy, flared style was designed for a much taller, more buxom woman. Her diminutive frame seemed lost in it. They had attempted to curl her fine, straight hair. When it had resisted, they had applied a lacquer that had fixed it into a cottony mass. They had used highly-colored cosmetics on her face, rather too liberally. Beru longed for a shower to wash away the wedding finery, not to mention the wedding.

  
  


The Rijdans were oblivious. "You look wonderful!" Madame Rijdan said, excitedly. "We're nearly ready!"

  
  


The thought of Owen seeing her like this nearly turned Beru's stomach. He'd never let her forget it.

  
  


"We took a look at the groom this morning," giggled the eldest Rijdan daughter. "Daddy's got him out of jail, and is getting him ready, too. He's definitely above average."

  
  


Definitely above average, Beru sighed to herself. Owen's life story encapsulated.

  
  


The second daughter made a comment so ribald that Beru's eyes popped. The delicate flowers shrieked with laughter.

  
  


"Look at her blush!" exclaimed Madame Rijdan, laughing. "Nobody'd guess that he's already sampled the merchandise! Well, now, honey, tell us all about it--how was he? Don't be shy! We're all married here."

  
  


Beru decided then and there that she had better adapt herself to her audience. She made a measuring gesture with her hands that was received with hoots of disbelief and applause.

  
  


"Well, honey," Madame Rijden said, "Not that you really need it, it's time for the finishing touch. It's a little late for it--well, more than just a little. But to us, tradition is all-important." She gestured to her youngest daughter, who came forward with a flute filled with bright red liquid on a small medal tray. "Here we are, and just for you: Bakaniri wedding cordial. Famous all over the galaxy."

  
  


Beru had never heard of it. She sniffed cautiously at the flute, but the liquid had no smell. She hesitated, but it was obvious that to refuse to drink the stuff would be rude. After all, these people had knocked themselves out preparing a wedding for her. It was not their fault that she didn't want to be married, or more accurately, she didn't want to be married to Owen Lars. She took a deep breath and drank the contents of the flute down.

  
  


At first she thought that the liquid had no taste. Then she discerned a musty, perfumey flavor that was mild at first, and then became stronger and stronger. She bit back a desire to gag. The Rijdens watched her with bright, expectant faces. The youngest daughter muttered something that she did not quite catch. 

  
  


"I'm sorry," Beru said, feeling dizzy, "what was that you said.?"

  
  


Madame Rijdan gave her daughter a stern look. "Nothing. She was just mentioning the cordial's nickname. It's rather crude. Pay no attention."

  
  


The youngest daughter snickered. "Lewd, crude and stewed!" she exclaimed, laughing. 

  
  


"Enough!" Madame Rijden said. "Let's see if your father and the happy groom have arrived."

  
  


They had indeed arrived, and to her surprise, Beru soon saw the 'happy groom' was an accurate description. Owen, dressed in Bakaniri wedding finery, appeared to be in tearing spirits. His outfit was about as becoming as her own, and obviously cobbled together from disparate donated elements that did not quite fit him. A Bakaniri priest, in gilded wedding robes, stood waiting with him. Captain Rijdan and two business-like male relatives stood behind Owen, apparently covering the escape routes. Such precautions hardly seemed necessary. Owen was grinning happily. Beru had never seen him in such a good mood. She wondered if he was drunk.

  
  


The wedding ceremony was a Bakaniri one, which started with a recitation of each family's history and achievements. Beru winged this. A series of outrageous lies seemed to pour from her lips. Her stomach burned from the cordial.

  
  


Then Owen took over. Beru was rather startled to hear that Owen's father, who she rather thought was a smallholder on Tattooine, was the victor in twenty-five duels of honour. What in space is making him behave like this, Beru thought to herself. What's making *me* behave like this?

  
  


The priest then led them through a series of symbolic rites, designed to promote happiness, fertility, wealth and longevity. Finally they knelt together, face to face, and the priest led them through the joint wedding oath.

  
  


To Owen: "Do you promise to protect this woman with your life?"

  
  


"I promise."

  
  


To Beru: "Do you promise to nurture this man in times of trouble?"

  
  


"I promise."

  
  


"Do you promise to cleave to one another and to your children?"

  
  


"Yes," they answered together.

  
  


The priest then pronounced the blessing and declared them married. I always dreamed of what my wedding would be like, Beru thought. I just didn't know that it was going to be of the blaster-point variety. When you consider that I'm sterile, it's quite an achievement. 

  
  


Captain Rijdan then stepped forward and put Owen throught another series of oaths for the acknowledgment and legitimization of Luke. Owen promised to protect and provide for the child, and acknowledged him as his son. He seemed to have no difficulty in doing so. Beru had sniffed his breath suspiciously during the ceremony, but there was no smell of alcohol. Yet something was wrong. She could sense it. 

  
  


Later, Beru could not clearly remember the rest of the day. She was vaguely aware of a large party, which gradually became more and more raucous. Owen appeared to be having a wonderful time, laughing, joking, even dancing. Even Luke seemed to be enjoying himself. He was passed from arm to arm, and Beru noticed that people were popping sweets in his mouth. He can't digest that! Beru screamed to herself, but an overpowering lassitude prevented her from doing anything about it. She felt terribly tired. She longed for the evening to end.

  
  


Finally, the guests began to disperse. Captain Rijdan and his wife were talking to Owen, their voices echoing louder and louder in Beru's brain. The lights began to merge into each other. Beru felt faint. She looked around for Luke. She discovered him fast asleep in a chair, his mouth stained. She tried to pick him up, but he slid sleepily out of her arms. He was heavy--so heavy. He's too heavy a burden, Beru said to herself in despair. I can't lift him anymore--

  
  



	11. Chapter 11Virgin's Blood

  
  


Chapter 11--Virgin's Blood

  
  


"Don't you people know enough not to drink Virgin's Blood?" a voice said. Beru didn't recognize the speaker.

  
  


"What--?" she whispered. She was lying down. Thank Hoth. Her entire body seemed dehydrated. Every bone ached.

  
  


"I said, don't you know enough not to drink wedding toasts with Bakaniri? Those idiots have digestions of durasteel. You don't."

  
  


Beru brought her eyes down and discovered a thin middle-aged woman in a medic's uniform hovering above her. She was scowling in disapproval. Beru struggled to sit up, without success. She felt very weak. The medic, grimacing, put a pillow behind Beru's head. Beru saw that they were in the bedroom of some kind of luxury suite.

  
  


"Where's Luke? The--my baby?"

  
  


"Nice of you to remember him," the medic muttered. "He's over there." She pointed with her chin. Luke lay in a nearby crib. His eyes were closed and he was disturbingly quiet.

  
  


"He's been sick all night," the medic said. "You wouldn't *believe* the stuff he had on his stomach."

  
  


Beru tried to roll over. "Is he alright?"

  
  


"Yes. Now. No thanks to you."

  
  


Beru tried to replay the events of the previous night in her head. "Owen?" she asked. 

  
  


"If that's your husband, he's lying on the couch in the other room, giggling to himself like an idiot. He's been doing that all night. I swear, if I have to listen to much more, I'll forget that I swore an oath to preserve life."

  
  


Beru closed her eyes. "I didn't have anything to drink. No alcohol."

  
  


"What you had wasn't alcoholic. You had an overdose of Bakaniri wedding cordial, popularly known as 'Virgin's Blood.' The stuff's lethal. The Bakaniri believe it enhances the wedding night performance. Sort of dam-fool thing they *would* believe. With most people, it induces profound euphoria. That's the effect it had on your husband. That's why he's sitting out there, giggling away to himself. It'll wear off eventually, leaving him with one hell of a hangover--they've been known to last up to a week. But in your case, you don't have enough body mass for the Blood to have that effect on you. It poisoned you."

  
  


"Poisoned!" Beru exclaimed.

  
  


"Don't worry. I've flushed most of it out of your system. Luckily, your husband wasn't too out of it not to notice you were in trouble. He called me. Not that he was much help thereafter."

  
  


Beru's mind felt sluggish. She could not process all this information at once. Finally she asked, "Did my milk dry up?"

  
  


"It sure did. I can induce it again, but not immediately. I want to make sure your system's clear before you breast-feed again. I've sedated the baby, and put him on a small i.v. to prevent dehydration. When he wakes up, you should be able to feed him."

  
  


Tears rose to Beru's eyes. She felt terrible.

  
  


"Look, don't cry. I can imagine what happened. Just be more careful in the future. The Bakaniri, under that cultural veneer, are the looniest bunch imaginable. Offworlders are often fooled by them. They only *seem* harmless."

  
  


"How long--?"

  
  


"It'll take you some time to recover. A week to ten days to get you on your feet. But as soon as you do, I'd leave this planet."

  
  


"I won't drink it again."

  
  


"I'm not worried about *you,*" the medic said, sighing. "If everybody reacted the way you did, it wouldn't be a scourge. It's your husband. He liked it, and here's the bad news: it's addictive."

  
  


Beru finally realized the vulnerability of her situation. Once Owen recovered, he could summon Ben Kenobi, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. She gasped. The medic considered this an appropriate response. For the first time, she gave Beru an approving glance. Beru said, weakly, "We can't leave until I'm better. Can you get me on my feet quicker than that?"

  
  


The medic sat down beside the bed. "No. You had a bad go of it, and it triggered a physical collapse. You really need more time, not less."

  
  


"How soon will Owen recover?"

  
  


"I think they gave him quite a bit. Say three or four days, tops."

  
  


Beru looked her in the eye. "Is there any way you can prolong his symptoms?"

  
  


The medic was silent for a moment. "That's against my oath--" she began.

  
  


"I'm not asking you to give him more of the cordial."

  
  


The medic looked doubtful. Finally, she said, "I could give him the antidote. Usually I only use it on poisoning cases, like you. However, I have used it occasionally on patients with severely euphoric symptoms. The type that get so happy they thing they can fly."

  
  


"What's the effect?"

  
  


"It's a strong depressant. You're not feeling so jolly right now, are you? He'll be worse."

  
  


Beru did not like to think of Owen depressed; his normal personality was dour enough as it was. But she also felt that she had no choice. It was a damnable, dirty thing to do to him. And yes, she was going to do it. She didn't even bother pretending to herself that she wanted to save him from possible addiction to the Bakaniri elixir. She doubted that he was the addictive type. He rarely drank alcohol, and she had never seen signs of any other indulgences. No: she did not want Ben Kenobi arriving on Bakanir while she was still incapacitated.

  
  


She managed to persuade the reluctant medic that the antidote was the better of two bad choices. The medic had just agreed to administer it when Owen rushed into the bedroom.

  
  


"Beru!" he said. "You're better!" He actually seemed genuinely pleased. Beru felt a spasm of guilt.

  
  


"Wasn't that a great wedding?" Owen said, kneeling beside the bed, and taking her hand. "I never had such a good time in my life!" He's much better looking when he smiles, Beru thought idly, though I wouldn't have known it, because I've never seen him smile before. Not really.

  
  


"It's too bad you passed out at the party," Owen was saying, "The Rijdans were very upset. They provided this place to us for the honeymoon. It's a resort of some type. Belongs to one of their cousins."

  
  


Beru managed to laugh weakly. "Is everybody on this planet related?"

  
  


"Yes," the medic interjected, sourly. "It's the only reasonable explanation."

  
  


"Got one hell of a sharp tongue, hasn't she?" Owen said in a stage whisper. "She's been giving me hell all night. It's not *my* fault Luke was sick."

  
  


"No-the wedding guests fed him sweets. I should have stopped them, but I was feeling very sick."

  
  


"Did they give you some kind of red drink before the ceremony?" Owen asked. "I had a tankard of it. Rijdan insisted. Said it would help me do my duty, whatever *that* means."

  
  


"They use it as an aphrodisiac, I think. Yes, they gave it to me, too. That's what made me sick."

  
  


Owen looked puzzled. "That's funny. Made me feel great. Haven't felt this good in years!"

He laughed. "Maybe you should try it again."

  
  


Snorting, the medic held out a capsule to Owen. "I can't stand it anymore," she said. "Take this."

  
  


Beru pushed herself up high enough to grasp the medic's wrist. "No, I've changed my mind."

  
  


"Changed your mind about what?" Owen asked, cheerfully. Beru didn't answer him.

  
  


"He'll be worse before he's better," the medic said.

  
  


"I understand. I'll handle it."

  
  


"Handle what?" Owen said.

  
  


"Owen, I'm going to need your help over the next few days."

  
  


"Sure, anything you want, Beru, anything! You know I'd do anything for you."

  
  


The cordial was certainly making him behave strangely, Beru thought. And the strangest thing of all was that she thought she could actually sense his feelings. He was not able to suppress them, as he usually did. She looked at the medic, who was glaring at them both disapprovingly. 

  
  


"Thank you, anyway," Beru said to her.

  
  


Owen began laughing to himself again and the medic gave him an exasperated look. "He won't be able to look after you properly--"

  
  


"Can you check on us, say once or twice a day? I'd appreciate it. I'll need some extra help, especially with the baby."

  
  


The medic agreed reluctantly. She gave Beru a com-link to summon her if needed, and left. 

  
  


"Glad to see the end of *her*." Owen said. He laughed again.

  
  


Beru still found his manic cheerfulness disconcerting. Was this what he was really like? Or was cordial producing an artificial personality? She was inclined to the latter conclusion. She would greet his descent into his familiar moroseness with positive relief. At least she knew how to handle that.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12The Marrying Kind

Chapter 12--The Marrying Kind

  
  


The next morning, Beru awoke feeling more oriented, if not much stronger. Owen lay on a daybed in her room, snoring loudly. Luke was still quiet. Beru wanted to check on him, but she found standing up beyond her. She reached over, and grabbed the bars of his crib. Pulling it towards her as gently as she could, she managed to raise her head enough to see that he was still sleep, breathing evenly.

  
  


"Beru!" It was Owen, rubbing his eyes. "Why didn't you wake me up? I told you I'd help, didn't I?"

  
  


He appeared groggy, and he needed a shave. But the effect of the cordial was still evident. Beru could sense less and less suppression from him. His emotions, however, were so mercurial that she could not read them accurately. Not yet, anyway.

  
  


She handed him the com-link. "Can you get the medic? I want her to unhook Luke from the i.v." Owen made a face, but he also made the call.

  
  


Beru felt calmer after she and the medic had Luke breast feeding again. It amazed her that a child not her own had the power to make her feel so guilty. She really had no responsibility toward him at all. Yet she had committed crimes for him. Betrayed her mentor. Married a man she hardly knew. She knew that, given another choice, she would do it all again. She didn't know why, either. Was he manipulating her, as Owen suggested?

  
  


Owen sat down beside her on the bed. He inspected Luke as if he were looking at him for the first time. "Doesn't favor his mother, does he?" he said idly.

  
  


"It's not a crime," Beru said stiffly. Criticism of the child immediately ruffled her feathers.

  
  


Owen grinned. Prior to their nightmarish wedding ceremony, Beru hadn't known if Owen had any teeth-at least until then she had never seen him display them. Now he was showing them off every five minutes or so. It made him seem like a stranger. "I'll bet she wouldn't agree," he said.

  
  


"No bet," Beru said shortly. "You'd win."

  
  


"Good for Anakin," Owen said. "At least he had his share."

  
  


Beru stared at him. "I didn't think you liked him that much." In fact, she always suspected that Owen had been jealous of Anakin.

  
  


"I felt sorry for him," Owen said soberly. "Poor little bastard. He thought he was going to please Ben. Talk about wanting to achieve the impossible."

  
  


Beru was astonished at the freedom of this conversation. The other Knights had concluded that nothing went on behind Owen's facade. They had obviously been wrong. "Ben loved him like a son," she said tentatively. She winced at the cliche. It sounded stupid.

  
  


"Yeah, sure," Owen muttered. "Let me tell you something about my brother. Nobody is like a son to him, and for good reason. Not me, and not Anakin. In fact, he's uncomfortable with children, and he didn't want the responsibility of either of us. When I was fifteen, my parents died in the macule fever epidemic. Ben came home and took charge of me, but believe me, he was reluctant. So was I. I never wanted to be a Jedi, but I ended up as one anyway. In Anakin's case, someone had to take the boy on after Qui-Jon's death. Frankly, I think he would have been better to send Anakin back to his mother, and to find a foster-home for me. But never let it be said that Obi-Wan," he gave his brother's honorific an ironic inflection, "doesn't know his duty. He does, and he'll do it, and the costs to all and sundry be damned. He discovered pretty quickly with me that I wasn't going to be a credit to him. It took longer with Anakin."

  
  


Beru finally asked the question she had often wondered about. "If you were that unhappy, why didn't you leave?"

  
  


Panic flared briefly in Owen's eyes. His emotions surged past her so quickly that she could not read them. With an effort, he met her gaze. "Why not ask Anakin why he stayed?" he asked, in an attempt at lightness.

  
  


Beru snorted. "I know why he stayed. He had a giant crush on Amidala. Of course, he was only one of many. All the male Knights were mooning after her. Except you, of course," she added teasingly, trying to match Owen's tone. "Why didn't you join the crowd?"

  
  


Owen looked her in the eyes. "I was too busy mooning after you."

  
  


Beru felt her face flush. "That isn't funny, Owen."

  
  


"I'm not joking."

  
  


He wasn't, either, she could tell. She had never suspected it before. Nor did she doubt that he meant what he said. The pieces shifted in her brain and began to fit together in a new and alarming pattern.

  
  


"You never said anything to me--"

  
  


"Do you think I'm stupid?" Owen said, almost shouting. "What would be the point of saying anything? I knew you were in love with Ben."

  
  


Beru felt shocked and humiliated. "Did everybody know that?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Owen shrugged. "It was pretty obvious."

  
  


"To him, too?" Beru asked, thickly. She had always flattered herself that she had kept it a secret.

  
  


"Sure," Owen said easily. "It suited him fine, too, as long as he didn't have to do anything about it. So much so that he scuppered your last engagement. Or didn't you know about that?"

  
  


She hadn't. She had been engaged twice. The first time, she had been only twenty, and it had foundered on her inability to have children. Her fiancee claimed that it didn't matter to him, but as the engagement progressed, it became evident that it did, and Beru had broken it off, feeling exceedingly noble, and thoroughly sorry for herself. The second time had been much more serious. Finally despairing of Ben, she had formed a warm relationship with one of the older Knights. He had been a good and honorable man, a widower with young two children. It had seemed perfect. She had liked his children, and they had liked her. If not wildly in love with her fiancee, Beru had liked him very much indeed, and the abrupt end of the engagement--for he had broken it--hurt her deeply.

  
  


"How?" she asked, numbly.

  
  


"Told him the truth, more or less. No man likes to be second choice," Owen's lips twisted.

  
  


"Why would he--"

  
  


"Think about it, Beru. He'd lose your services--and believe me, complete devotion is very handy--and if you got married, he was pretty sure I'd leave, too. Suppressors are pretty rare, and can be very useful. And if his acolytes seldom come up to his standards, Ben doesn't like to lose them, either. I knew you were upset, but that was the one time I cheered Ben on."

  
  


"I can't believe he'd treat me that way."

  
  


Owen looked at her. "Compared to Anakin, you got off lightly."

  
  


Beru sucked in her breath. "So it's true, then?"

  
  


"Yes. The only thing I'm not sure about is whether Anakin knew the whole truth before or after he and Amidala were married. I suspect after. It fits."

  
  


"He must have known that the child wasn't his."

  
  


"He may not have known that she was pregnant," Owen said. "But they had to find someone to marry him. Time was getting short."

  
  


"You don't know this for sure."

  
  


"Oh, yes, I do," Owen said, "And you know why? Because Ben asked *me* to marry her."

  
  


Beru was speechless.

  
  


Anakin and Amidala's marriage had been a nine day's wonder. He was considerably younger than her, and she had always treated him with rather impatient affection, as an annoying, if amusing, younger brother. Socially, too, it hadn't been an obvious match. Amidala was royal and from a sophisticated Middle Rim planet. Anakin was a former slave from a wretched Outer Rim planet. Yet they had come in one day and announced to the rest of the Knights that they had married. Anakin had been innocently joyful; Amidala furtive, as if she had done something of which she was ashamed. She had, of course, but as it turned out, it wasn't the marriage itself. Shortly after the wedding, she had a miscarriage. Rumors instantly flew that the child had not been Anakin's.

  
  


"I take it you said no."

  
  


"No kidding."

  
  


"So they picked on Anakin?"

  
  


"I suppose. I suspect that they weren't as honest with him as they were with me. Though the word 'they' might not be appropriate. I was Ben's bright idea. I think Anakin was Amidala's candidate. Ben was presented with a done deal."

  
  


"Was Ben the father of the baby?" Beru asked.

  
  


"The first one? I don't know."

  
  


"You didn't ask?"

  
  


Owen shrugged. "None of *my* business. Unless I was prepared to marry her myself, which I wasn't."

  
  


Beru stared at him. "Well, why not?" she asked. "She's rich, well-born, good-looking, and fertile. A much better bet than me."

  
  


Owen grimaced. "No thanks. Look what happened to Anakin. A fat lot of good all those things did him."

  
  


"The twins *are* his, though," Beru said. "Amidala told me they were."

  
  


"I'm not sure I'd believe her. Anakin did, and look what happened to him."

  
  


"I believe it. She wouldn't hate Luke so much if it wasn't true. She keeps saying that he's exactly like Anakin and will go the same way."

  
  


Owen scratched his chin. "Well, we always hate those we've wronged the most, don't we?" he said, surprising Beru still more. "And we blame them for the bad things we do to them--obviously it has to be their fault, or we wouldn't do it, would we? Since Anakin isn't currently available for that, Luke'll do in a pinch. Bad luck on him, though."

  
  


Beru wiped the milk off Luke's mouth. Bad luck indeed, or 'born under a bad star' as the common saying went. She looked the baby over carefully. His eyes were flickering back and forth between her and Owen as though he was following their conversation. Beru sensed that he could not understand the nuances, but realized he was being discussed. She felt a stab of fear. His future filled her with foreboding.

  
  


"Does Anakin know about the twins?" she asked Owen. She had never been able to bring herself to ask Obi-Wan this question.

  
  


Owen shrugged. "Beats me. You could ask Amidala; she might even answer you. If he does, though,

he may not believe they're his. And you could scarcely blame him."

  
  


No: you couldn't blame him for that, Beru thought, patting Luke's back. "If he gets close, he should be able to tell Luke is, from his Force signature. I think so, anyway. Not the girl: her signature is like Amidala's. But Luke, yes."

  
  


"I doubt Anakin would care," Owen said.

  
  


"You're wrong there. He'd care all right." A marvelous irony, Beru thought. Anankin was lost in the Dark Side, but of the baby's parents, he was the one less likely to commit infanticide. But she didn't doubt that infanticide would be a kinder fate for the child than falling into Anakin's hands. 

  
  


"Would Anakin be able to sense him?" she asked Owen, hesitantly.

  
  


Owen shrugged. "If we ever slow down, I expect we'll find out," he predicted grimly.

  
  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13A Modest Proposal

  
  


Chapter 13--A Modest Proposal

  
  


The next day, Owen's manic behavior abated, and he would scarcely talk to Beru. Unrequited herself, she knew these symptoms only too well. Owen had obviously long nursed the pleasing daydream that if he told her the truth, she would confess like feelings---long unexpressed--for him, and they would fall into one another's arms. Beru was familiar with *that* fantasy---intimately. Real life being real life, she hadn't responded; and now he was humiliated, and wishing he had never told her a thing. Beru devoutly shared that wish. She was now very glad that she had never worked up the nerve to play Owen's role in a confrontation with Obi-Wan. Owen's other revelations in that direction she filed away for further consideration.

  
  


The medic still visited them regularly. On one of these visits, she angrily denounced Owen for not spending more time with Luke, thereby allowing Beru to rest. Owen had endured this tirade in grim silence. Then, with the long-suffering air of a man unjustly accused, he had taken Luke out for a walk. This involved putting the child in a small infant-sized float chair at the end of a thin chain, and keeping a sharp watch on him. Luke was highly suspicious of going on any expedition alone with Owen, and so the first attempt at an outing was, not surprisingly, a disaster.

  
  


On their return, Owen had burst into their suite, holding a howling Luke. "I think he's possessed by demons!" he blurted. "He screamed, he yelled, he did everything but yodel! We attracted a big crowd of Bakaniri women, all of whom had an expert opinion on why I'm a lousy parent! And they wanted to describe it to me in detail-all at once!

  
  


Beru suppressed a smile, as she took Luke into her arms. "That's too bad, Owen," she said, gently for her.

  
  


"I'll say," Owen exclaimed bitterly. "Of course, the women decided that they had to comfort this poor little baby, condemned to my company. They lifted him out of the float-chair, and right on cue, he stopped crying. Gave them the great big smile and dimples routine; you know: the one that always slays you."

  
  


Beru stiffened. "Is that so?" she said.

  
  


"Yeah. Then he sniffed, you know that pathetic way he has. They all cooed--in unison--and one of them produced a handkerchief and wiped his nose. Then they passed him around, clucking over him, and pinching his cheeks. He was in Hutt heaven, the little con-man! And of course, as soon as I took him back, he started howling again. They all looked at me as though I was some kind of torturer...!"

  
  


"Tough luck," Beru said, no longer gentle. "You earned that when you kidnaped him on Ghazni. He doesn't trust you, and why should he?"

  
  


"If you ask me," Owen said, "he knows full well I'm not taking him anywhere. He just wants to torture me for the damned fun of it."

  
  


Beru bit her tongue. She was well aware that at least some of Owen's bluster was a cover for his profound embarrassment. Since the night of his ill-fated declaration, he had been unable to look her in the eye, and was having no better luck at it today. She sighed to herself. The exposure of his true feelings, for a man as naturally reserved as Owen, must be very difficult. So she tried to have patience; but she also wished he didn't display his one hundred annoying habits daily. 

  
  


She had felt a lot more comfortable with him when she had thought he disliked her. She felt absurdly guilty for disappointing his hopes; she knew the power of such hopes, too well, and how little foundation they needed to flourish. That Owen was jealous of his older brother hardly surprised her, even before she discovered the underlying reason. That he was jealous of an infant--and he was, visibly resenting her devotion to Luke--astonished her.

  
  


She cuddled Luke protectively in her arms, and gave Owen a reproving look. Owen rolled his eyes.

  
  


After a pause, Owen asked, "What did the medic say? Can we leave soon?"

  
  


"Another week," Beru said with a sigh.

  
  


Owen scowled at the thought. "We've got to get out of here, Beru. As soon as possible. You know that, don't you?"

  
  


"Yes, I know."

  
  


"I told Rijdan about the problems with our passports," Owen said. "He promised he'll get us Bakaniri ones. It's not the best solution--neither of us would pass for natives--but it's something at least."

  
  


"Yes, I suppose."

  
  


Owen collapsed in a nearby chair. "The problem is, I don't even know where Ben is, anymore. And I'm certain going back to Nineveh is a bad idea."

  
  


"I can't disagree with that."

  
  


"So we have to decide. Not the Temple; Coruscrant is an even worse idea. I don't think any of the Knights are still there, anyway."

  
  


"There is an alternative," Beru was careful to keep her tone neutral.

  
  


Owen raised his head and looked at her suspiciously. After a rather long pause, he said, "And that is?"

  
  


Beru shrugged. "Well, none of us *has* to go back."

  
  


Owen stared at her.

  
  


"We can stay married, if you want," Beru said, realizing that she must be blunt.

  
  


Owen still said nothing. 

  
  


"It could be a real marriage. Your know what I mean. After all, you said--"

  
  


"Are you trying to bribe me with sex?" Owen asked abruptly.

  
  


"If that's what it takes," Beru retorted, annoyed.

  
  


"If this is your idea of a seduction, Beru, believe me, it leaves something to be desired."

  
  


"I've never done it before, okay?"

  
  


"Big surprise."

  
  


"Well, what *do* you want?" Beru asked, exasperated.

  
  


Owen looked at her bitterly. "Nothing you're prepared to give me, obviously."

  
  


Beru closed her eyes, trying hard to hold on to her temper. She opened them again and gave Owen a hard look. "Would you rather I tried to manipulate you? Would you rather I fawned all over you and said I worshiped you?"

  
  


"In a word, *yes!*"

  
  


Beru sighed and sat down. "I can't do that," she said, wearily. "I know you think that you--" she could not utter the word *love,* "--you have feelings for me. But I doubt that it's more than a crush. After all, what do you know about me? Nothing. We've hardly even talked--"

  
  


Owen said ominously, "Don't tell me how I feel."

  
  


"And don't treat me like a fool! Ask yourself this question: if I hadn't had a crush on Obi-Wan, would you have noticed me at all? I don't think so. You just want someone to choose you over him for once in your life."

  
  


Contrary to her expectations, Owen did not lose his temper. He said coldly, "If that were true, I'd have been in love with Amidala, along with the rest of the idiots."

  
  


Beru had not expected dispassionate logic in response to insults, and began to feel rather ashamed of herself. Owen undoubtedly brought out the worst in her. Perhaps because she could not sense his feelings--he was a blank slate to her, utterly mysterious. She was so used to relying on the Force with her relations with people that her ordinary antennae had rusted.

  
  


"I'm not going to insult you by pretending I feel something that I don't. As it happens, I've decided to declare myself cured of Obi-Wan. I see no point in carrying on further over someone who obviously doesn't share my feelings--" she broke off, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

  
  


"Like me."

  
  


She looked him in the eyes. "Like you, yes."

  
  


"Your honesty is *not* appreciated!"

  
  


"Owen, this is getting us nowhere! I made you an offer. We *are* married, we can stay that way."

  
  


"And what do you get out of this?"

  
  


"I get a husband, and Luke gets a father."

  
  


Owen rolled his eyes. "I might have known it would come down to him. Look, Beru----if you want children, it's fine by me, I don't care, but please, please *not* him! We could adopt as many as you want--Jedi kids, even. But he's trouble! He doesn't belong to you, for starters. If we keep him, we'd have to go on the lam. Permanently."

  
  


"I've already accepted that."

  
  


"How nice for you."

  
  


Beru scowled at him. "I seem to recall that when we were married--granted, I wasn't at my best at the time--you acknowledged Luke as your son and agreed that you would provide for him. I assumed--silly me--that you meant what you said."

  
  


"The blaster Rijdan had in my back prompted that."

  
  


"And is that why you married me?"

  
  


"No. I wanted to."

  
  


"If you wanted one, you wanted the other. That's the way it is, Owen."

  
  


"That's the way it is, Owen," Owen mimicked her. "I'm really tired of you dictating to me."

  
  


"Fine. Then all I ask of you is a head start. I intend to take Luke and do my best to get lost--as you said, permanently. You can go back to the Knights--what's left of them--and do whatever you want. You should have no trouble getting an annulment. I won't contest it."

  
  


Owen was silent for a moment. Then he said, "You won't last very long."

  
  


"Without you, you mean?"

  
  


"Yes. You can't suppress his Force sense, can you? And without suppression, you'll be an easy target. For Obi-Wan, if he gets there first. Or for Anakin, if he doesn't."

  
  


Beru's mouth thinned. "I'll just have to keep him quiet, then."

  
  


"That kid?" Owen sneered. "He'll be quiet in his grave. Maybe."

  
  


"That's not funny, Owen," Beru said, coldly.

  
  


"Sorry," Owen muttered.

  
  


But she knew he was right. To her horror, tears began to trace down her cheeks.

  
  


Owen began to mime applause. "See--" he said. "You can be manipulative when you try."

  
  


Beru fought to control herself. She wondered if Owen was actually deceived. Probably not.

  
  


"Just remember--you asked," she said. A good enough response, except her voice broke in the middle. She jumped to her feet; she wanted to get away from him, now. Losing control in front of Owen seemed the worst fate she could think of. He grabbed her by the upper arms and looked down at her. 

  
  


"Look, I'm sorry, Beru. I know that you love him, or think that you do."

  
  


"I told you--I'm over him."

  
  


Owen grimaced. "I meant Luke."

  
  


Beru said, "Someone's got to love him." Which was as good as an explanation as any. His mother didn't, his father couldn't, and Owen wouldn't. That left her.

  
  


Owen scowled at her. "You must have a real high opinion of me," he said.

  
  


"Guilt trips don't work with me, Owen. Give it up."

  
  


"And an even higher opinion of yourself."

  
  


"And if guilt trips don't work, move on to work on her insecurities," Beru observed. "Have you forgotten what my specialty in the Force is? Don't play games! If the answer is no, say so."

  
  


Beru suddenly caught the tail end of an emotion from his Owen's suppression. To her dismay, she realized that he was deeply hurt by her bluntness. Under his crustiness, Owen was, Hoth help him, a romantic. Being crudely propositioned by the woman he fancied himself in love with had devastated him. It obviously didn't fit with his fantasies. Beru wished that she had time to soothe his feelings, but she didn't. Besides, she had no intention of trying to manipulate him. Well, not much, anyway..

  
  


"And what guarantee do you have that I'll keep my side of the bargain?" Owen said sharply. He had his pride. A bit battered by this point, but still there.

  
  


"I don't have any. Neither do you."

  
  


It was no kind of deal--for him. Beru knew it, and she knew what his answer would be. She thought.

  
  


"I accept," Owen said, in a hoarse voice.

  
  


"What?" Beru said, startled.

  
  


"I said, I accept the offer," Owen said, rounding on her.

  
  


"Owen--you don't mean that. I wasn't serious."

  
  


"I *am* serious. I accept."

  
  


"Owen, for Hoth's sake--"

  
  


"I said I accept! You want me to betray my brother--I'll do it. You want to help you keep a child you've kidnaped from his mother--I'll do it. You want me to violate my oath as a Knight--I'll do that, too. What more do you want from me?"

  
  


Beru stared up at him, shocked into silence. 

  
  


Owen looked down at her. "I'll honor the promises I made to you at our wedding," he said. "I expect the same from you. Nothing more--nothing less. I don't want the boy, but I accept that you're a package deal. You'll have to accept me, too--as is. Don't ever complain to me that I'm not Obi-Wan. I don't want to hear it. Don't ever complain to me if things get bad. You chose this. You'll get no complaints from me, either. No excuses. Ever. Agreed?

  
  


I should say no, Beru thought. I should, I should.

  
  


"Agreed," she said.

  
  


  
  


To be continued....


	14. Chapter 14Cain and Abel

Chapter Fourteen--Cain and Abel

  
  


Beru carried Luke over to the computer terminal and sat down with him on her lap. She had been working at home as a slicer for a few weeks, and though boring, the job brought in some much needed credits. Owen, too, had sought a job. To Beru's surprise, he had produced a galaxy pilot's licence--which meant he was qualified to fly just about anything in the Inner, Outer and Middle Rim. Another thing she had not known about him. They were beginning to mount up.

  
  


With the help of Captain Rijdan, Owen had landed a job as a short-jump shuttle pilot on Vaduz, a sister planet in the same cluster as Bakanir. He was too talented for the work, but his employers didn't care. Beru wondered if Owen did, but if so, he gave no sign. No complaints. No excuses. They needed the money. And if they were to make a clean get-away, credits were necessary.

  
  


To untutored eyes, she supposed, they appeared to be a normal, if dull, little family. Father scraping by in a job he hated. Mother working part-time at piece work for extras. Baby teething. But if genetic scans had been done on them the equation would have been different. One Jedi Knight, suppressor variety. Second Jedi Knight, active variety. One extremely Force-strong infant, with a disturbing bloodline, volatile variety. A recipe for disaster, unless they would afford to acquire the kind of cover documents that were both expensive and difficult to obtain. They were still using the ones Captain Rijdan had provided, and soon that would no longer be viable.

  
  


Beru sighed and looked down at the baby. Luke was chewing a teething ring with determined vigor. He had adapted to their new circumstances well, rather better than either of his foster parents. He still regarded Owen with reserve, but was no longer openly hostile toward him--a mirror of Owen's attitude toward him. They had accepted each other as a fact of life, not especially pleasant, but necessary. But there were still times, Beru though, that she felt as though she were the rope in a tug of war. They were both extremely jealous of each other's demands on her time and attention. 

  
  


The marriage created by her impulsive lies and the Bakaniri elixir was no longer entirely a sham. In the bedroom, Owen was predictably awkward but not uninteresting. No elegance, but plenty of stamina. They proved to be more physically compatible than she might have imagined. She hoped it was some consolation to him for the turn his life had taken, for she could not see that he gained much else from their relationship. There was still no emotional intimacy between them. Since the cordial had worn off, he'd returned to suppressing his feelings, leaving her constantly guessing as to whether he was regretting his decision. Not that she feared that he would change his mind. She knew he would not.

  
  


She sighed. She wound up her work and put Luke on the floor. He had recently begun to walk a bit. It was early, she thought, though she didn't know for sure. He clamored to be lifted up, which she ignored, taking one small hand firmly in hers and encouraging him to walk. But walking was slow, and Luke already loved speed. When they went outside, he tried to pull her over to a speeder parked nearby. Beru corrected their route firmly. 

  
  


"We're going to meet Da," Beru said.

  
  


Luke made a face, which Beru prudently ignored. As long as Luke and Owen remained on polite terms, she could stand it, she told herself. Owen, she had to admit, was giving fatherhood an honest try. It was not his fault that with him it took the form of instruction and discipline rather than affection. Yet such things *were* important, Beru admitted. She recognized, with trepidation, that she herself was unable to discipline Luke effectively. She could not bring herself to add to his losses, even in a small way. Which left the scut work to Owen. As usual, he assumed it without complaint. Well, she'd amend that, usually without complaint. But though they did not argue openly, Luke was the one subject on which they rarely agreed.

  
  


The port on Vaduz was not very busy in the late afternoon because the main passenger shuttles weren't due until a couple of hours later. Owen was piloting a freight flight, and so he had an early arrival time. Beru enjoyed the walk, despite having to adapt her pace to that of a toddler. Vaduz was chiefly an agricultural planet, and it supplied the heavily populated worlds in the cluster. A quiet, dull place. Beru did not mind the dullness, as long it remained quiet, with all that implied. 

  
  


Owen's flight was a little late. Beru put in some time in window-shopping in the port stores. When she and Luke finally arrived at the pilot's station, Owen was signing off his flight schedule and arrival confirmation. He looked up and saw them. Surprised, he gave Beru a rare smile. Damn, Beru thought to herself, I'd hoped he was getting over it. Apparently not. She smiled back, tentatively. Owen, collecting himself, cleared his face of expression. Beru picked Luke up--he was a handy prop at times like this---and went forward. For the delectation of the two other pilots at the station, Beru reached up to kiss Owen's cheek. He accepted this, but did not kiss her back. 

  
  


"Good trip?" she asked.

  
  


He nodded. Also for the audience, he ruffled Luke's hair, as Beru mentally prodded him through the Force to do. Luke accepted this without enthusiasm, but he did accept it. At another signal from Beru, Owen took Luke from her arms and carried him out, while Beru wheeled Owen's overnight carryall.

  
  


Outside, all three of them relaxed. Owen immediately put Luke down and took over the carryall. Beru rapidly secured Luke on top of the luggage, so he could ride home, which delighted the child. 

  
  


"Everything alright here?" Owen asked, as they trundled Luke along.

  
  


"Yes, fine. You?"

  
  


Owen didn't answer at once, and Beru immediately tensed.

  
  


Finally, he said, "I think so. So far, anyway."

  
  


"You *think* so? What's going on, Owen?"

  
  


"I don't know. But I think we should move. As soon as possible."

  
  


Beru closed her eyes, briefly. "We nearly have enough money for the new passports. We have the connection for them all lined up on Bakanir. Why move now?"

  
  


"I can't explain it," Owen muttered. "But the passports'll be useless if we're not around to use them. We have to leave. I've already given my notice at work."

  
  


Beru opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it, abruptly. She nodded. Owen's ability to sense Force users, at least at a distance, was far greater than hers. There was no point in arguing with him; if he said they needed to leave, then leave they would.

  
  


But as it turned out, they were already too late.

  
  


When they arrived at home, a smallholding set in the fields outside the port, they found that they already had company. Obi-Wan stood in the shadows of the surrounding trees. He was very obviously waiting for them.

  
  


He had always worn his years well; now, he looked every second of his age, and more. His sandy hair was noticeably mixed with grey, as was his short beard. His face was lined. His eyes-Beru glanced into them briefly, and then looked away. She was frightened by what she saw there. He stepped forward silently. Beru scooped Luke into her arms and gripped him tightly.

  
  


Owen stepped in front of Beru and Luke, blocking his path. Ben stopped.

  
  


"Well, Owen," he said softly, "You're the last man I would have expected to lose his head over a woman. But we're never finished being surprised until we're dead, are we?"

  
  


Owen looked Ben straight in the eyes. "And you're the last man to lecture me on *that* subject, Obi-Wan," he said evenly. A hard flush appeared on Ben's thin face.

  
  


"And you, Beru," he said bitterly, still staring at Owen. "How long did it take you to seduce my brother? Not that I don't admire your tenacity. You really hate to lose, don't you?"

  
  


"Why does the woman always seduce the man, in your book?" Beru heard herself snap back at him. "Prejudice, or personal experience?" Ben's mouth tightened, and his eyes became hard points of light.

  
  


Ben's gaze then settled on Luke. Beru could not read his expression, but she caught a flicker of surprise and anxiety through the Force. He had not seen Luke since he was newborn. He may not have realized how much Luke resembled Anakin, both in appearance and Force signature.

  
  


"Let's end this, shall we?" he said, still very quietly, "Give me the child and we'll forget this ever happened. We can go on as we did before."

  
  


"And what do you plan to do with him?" Beru said. To her fury, her voice trembled. "Give him back to Amidala?"

  
  


"She's his mother."

  
  


"Why do you think I took him away from her?" Beru cried. "Do you think I kidnap children for the fun of it? She hates him! She thinks he's a threat to her and her daughter. Give him back to her, and he won't see his first birthday! Do you want that?"

  
  


"She won't hurt him."

  
  


"Do you intend to stand around and watch her?"

  
  


Ben closed his eyes briefly. "No. Standing between someone and their fate is a dangerous business, Beru. I did it with Anakin, and you see the results. I admit, Amidala was ill after the twins were born. But she's better now. I repeat-she won't hurt him."

  
  


"And I repeat--are you going to stay around to make sure?"

  
  


"He's not going back," Owen said, interrupting. His voice was expressionless.

  
  


"Beru--Owen, don't be foolish," Ben said softly. "The boy is nothing to you. Give him to me. You can come back with me, and see for yourself that he's in no danger. I need you both--I need your help. Don't forsake me now."

  
  


Beru felt oddly inclined to do as he asked. Return to the old familiar ways. Give up the difficulties and the anxieties of their new life. Let Ben make the decisions, take the risks. She shifted the child in her arms uneasily.

  
  


Suddenly, she felt a mild mental shock and she stumbled backwards. Ben staggered, too. She realized that he had been voice-manipulating her through the Force. She turned to Owen and saw that his face was hard and set. He was suppressing his brother's Force sense.

  
  


Suppressing a Jedi Knight of Ben's caliber would take immense control and concentration. Beru desperately tried to supplement Owen's efforts. The two men stood stock-still, locked in a fierce mental struggle.

  
  


It seemed to go on for a very long time. Ben sought to fight his way out from under the suppression, but Owen was equally determined to prevent him from doing so. Beru poured so much of her own Force-strength into Owen's defense that she felt faint. At first she didn't notice that Ben was moving, very slowly, to pick up a rock from the ground. Abruptly, he threw it--but not at Owen. It hit her high on the forehead. She cried out. Luke gave a startled yell. Owen turned to look at them--just briefly, but it was enough to break his concentration. Enough for Ben to pick up another, larger rock, with the Force, and strike his brother in the back of the head with it. Owen gave a grunt and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

  
  


Beru screamed shrilly. Blood was running into her eyes from the wound on her forehead. She scrambled over to Owen, still holding a wailing Luke. His eyes were closed, and blood flowed sluggishly from a wound on the back of his head.

  
  


"What do you think you're doing? You lost your temper!"

  
  


Ben came to stand beside her. "If I had lost my temper," he said calmly, "I would have killed him. He'll recover. Give me the boy, Beru. Right now."

  
  


He stooped and took Luke from her arms. Luke stopped wailing and started shrieking. A full-blown Force tantrum exploded in Beru's head, nearly blinding her. When her sight cleared, Obi-Wan and Luke were gone. Sobbing, she leaned over to examine Owen's injuries. He was still bleeding, and she couldn't rouse him. She shifted his head into her lap, and began to use Force-healing on him. It was a slow process because of her own injury. Eventually, his slate-colored eyes snapped open. He swore.

  
  


"Owen, are you alright?"

  
  


"He tricked me, dammit!" Owen muttered. "And I fell for it! Where is he?"

  
  


"He's gone."

  
  


Owen had closed his eyes. Now he opened them again. "The baby?" he asked.

  
  


"Ben took him."

  
  


"Why didn't you go after them, then?"

  
  


"And leave you to bleed to death?" Beru said angrily.

  
  


Owen stared at her. To Beru's surprise, he started to laugh.

  
  


"I'm glad you're feeling so cheerful," Beru said.

  
  


"I feel sorry for him."

  
  


"Who? The baby?"

  
  


"Hell, no--I mean Ben. He has no idea what he's getting himself into. That Sithspawned little demon will make him suffer and no mistake. I should know."

  
  


With Beru's help, he staggered to his feet, and dusted himself off. Then he took her by the chin and examined the wound on her forehead.

  
  


"Marked us both, didn't he? You alright?"

  
  


"Yes," Beru said. "What are we going to do?"

  
  


"Do?" Owen said calmly, "We're going to get the baby back. How long have they been gone?"

  
  


"About an hour."

  
  


"Did you see which direction?"

  
  


Beru shook her head.

  
  


"Doesn't matter. I have a feeling Luke will provide a clear trail to follow."

  
  



	15. Chapter 15Night Thoughts

Chapter Fifteen--Night Thoughts

  
  


Owen's prediction proved accurate. Luke was broadcasting loud and clear. Beru was horrified to note that he was doing it through the Force, raggedly, but very strongly, especially considering his age. She could feel his fear and distress like a blast of pain. If he kept it up, he'd have every Jedi Extermination Squad in the Middle Rim down on them in no time flat.

  
  


Obviously, Ben had come to the same conclusion. He was waiting for them, alongside the path to the shuttle-port, his face hard and set. Luke writhed in his arms. Beru had not seen the child have a Force-tantrum for many months. Now she saw with alarm that he had become much more adept at it. The sun was shining brightly, except for the small area around Ben and Luke. There the air was dark, wind lashed at Ben's robes, and a throbbing noise assaulted the ears. When Luke caught sight of Beru, the darkness lightened, the wind died, and the noise stopped. He gave an absurd little yelp, and held out his arms to her. Beru gathered him in her arms. Ben did not attempt to stop her--this time. 

  
  


Ben and Owen stood facing each other, silently. Beru backed away with Luke until Owen was in front of her.

  
  


"What is Sith's name have you been doing--giving him Force lessons?" Ben said, exasperated. 

  
  


"He's just doing what comes naturally--no lessons given, or needed," Beru said. She felt defensive, though why she should, she did not know.

  
  


Ben stepped closer to her, and found Owen's shoulder intervening.

  
  


"Keep your distance," Owen muttered.

  
  


Ben glared at him, but he fell back.

  
  


"You see, don't you, Beru, how difficult the child is. Too difficult for you to handle," Ben said. "He'll give you away to the Imperials--"

  
  


"You caused the disturbance," Beru said, shortly. "In more ways than one."

  
  


Ben drew his robe around him. "Since you keep bringing it up," he said, with an edge to his usually soft voice, "yes, I've done things that I now regret. I'm doing my best to make it better, can't you see that?"

  
  


"Assault and battery does assuage the soul," Beru said.

  
  


Ben stiffened. He wasn't used to back-talk from her. Beru realized antagonizing him wasn't going to help matters, and would probably make them worse, but she couldn't seem to stop it.

  
  


"Very well," Ben said, sighing. "We'll do it the hard way. Since the child appears to require your presence, you'll have to come with us."

  
  


"And Owen?" Beru said.

  
  


"We'll dispense with Owen's company, since I can no longer trust him," Ben said coldly.

  
  


Ben was not quite in control of himself, Beru thought. She could sense that he was angry--but the anger was more with Owen than with her. He had never much valued his brother, but he had trusted him, and Owen's defection infuriated him. If you looked at it from Ben's point of view, Beru supposed, it did look like a betrayal. First Anakin; then her; then Owen. The fabric of Ben's life was crumbling, and he was not taking it well.

  
  


"I'm not going anywhere with you," Beru said defiantly.

  
  


Ben gave her a half-amused look. "Changed your tune, haven't you?" he said. He lifted his chin in Owen's direction and said: "How long will it be before he figures out he's second choice?"

  
  


"I know that already," Owen said. His voice was expressionless.

  
  


Ben stared at him. "And doesn't it matter to you?"

  
  


"It matters," Owen said, staring back "Just as it mattered to Anakin."

  
  


Ben flinched, keeping control over his temper with a visible effort. "And does it matter that she'll ditch you just as soon as you stop being useful? Or don't you care?" he asked sharply.

  
  


"You have a really high opinion of me, don't you?" Beru interjected.

  
  


"I used to," Ben said, and turned away.

  
  


"I used to, too," Beru said, in a half whisper. Owen glanced at her, and then quickly looked away.

  
  


"Enough of this," Ben said, his back to them. "Beru, I want you to pack. For yourself and the boy. If you want to return here to Owen after we've delivered the child to his mother," he gave his brother an ironic glance, "I can hardly stop you, can I? Of course, you'll have to answer to the Order for your behavior first. Breaking your oath--not to mention assault, kidnaping and theft. I doubt the Council will be impressed. No doubt you'll be cashiered. Owen, too. You've both spent the whole of your adult lives as Jedi Knights. You've worked hard at it, both of you. What other life do you know? Why is this worthwhile for a child that isn't related to either of you?"

  
  


"The child isn't related to you, either," Beru said. "Yet here you are, trying to retrieve him. There must a dozen places where you'd be more useful at a time like this, isn't there? So why are *you* here?"

  
  


There was an uneasy silence.

  
  


Ben said, regretfully "I don't want to have to force you--" He drew his lightsaber.

  
  


"Then don't," Owen said. His own lightsaber appeared in his hand.

  
  


***

  
  


The pain was bad tonight, he could not sleep. The nights often felt very long, and this one longer than most. He could not rest. He could take pain-killers, he supposed. No: that brought on the nightmares. He would meditate, then. The Force would help him.

  
  


Usually, when he meditated, his visions were fragmentary and confusing, but this one took shape with frightening speed. He could see a woman. Pale hair. He knew her, didn't he? From his past. He remembered that she had been absently kind to him, once upon a time. Long ago. After a painful effort, his battered memory supplied her name: Beru. The vision came into clearer focus. There was a bundle in her arms--then he saw it was a small child. Was it hers? He was confused. Someone had told him--had it been her?--that she couldn't have children. Yet the child resembled her. A little boy, he thought. Perhaps her condition had responded to medical treatment. Unlike his. She was standing at the edge of a clearing in a wooded area, clutching the child tightly in her arms. He face was dirty and tear-stained. He frowned. Something was wrong.

  
  


Then he saw the men. They burst into the vision in a flash of kinetic energy. Both were wielding lightsabers. Their fight seemed speeded up, so that he could barely follow it. He cringed at the near-misses of the lightsabers; his flesh remembered the pain. Finally, he recognized the slower and heavier of the two men. His form wasn't as fluid as that of the other man, yet he parried every blow. Again a name typed into his brain: Owen. He remembered him now. Quiet. Not the sort to fight anyone. What was going on?

  
  


The other man was moving very quickly, so quickly that he had to concentrate very hard even to catch a glimpse of him. His form was classic, elegant. His saber trailed blue ribbons of light. Who was it? His breath rushed from his lungs when he finally recognized him: it was Obi-Wan. His heart beat rapidly. He could hear his life-support systems protesting.

  
  


Obi-Wan was too fast: he was winning the duel. He could feel the distress of the watching woman. If Obi-Wan won, it would be bad for her. He knew this, but he could not discern why. Was Owen the child's father? 

  
  


The woman put the child down, and stepped in front of him. She drew her own lightsaber. The blade had a an odd coppery glow. Owen saw her: Obi-Wan, concentrating on his prey, did not. His back was to her. She raised her lightsaber over her head, two-handed. The child wailed behind her. She did not look back, but Obi-Wan did. His mouth opened in a scream. The sound was high and full of panic. Then he realized that he was the one screaming. The vision vanished abruptly.

  
  


He tried to retrieve it, again and again, but nothing happened.

  
  


What did it mean? Why was Obi-Wan fighting his brother? Why did Beru attack him? She had, he recalled, always been in love with him--it had been a joke among the Knights. Had he gone to the Dark Side? No--it was not that. The child was the key, he could sense it. The Force was trying to tell him something; but he could not grasp it.

  
  


Finally he remembered the prophecy. The one who would restore balance to the Force. Qui-Jon had thought *he* was the one. He tried to smile, but his facial muscles hurt too much. Obviously, Qui-Jon had been wrong about that. Had Obi-Wan found another candidate? He thought back over the vision. He had sensed the Force strongly in the child. If he were Owen and Beru's son, then it was possible that he was the one of the prophecy. Yet why were they fighting Obi-Wan? Owen was his brother, Beru his loyal aide. There must be some reason that the Force was showing him this. He knew it was important for him to solve the puzzle, but he could not fit the pieces together. His head ached.

He tried meditation again. This time he saw a dark room. A woman was crouched in a corner. There was a veil over her face, but he knew her anyway: Amidala. There was a whimpering cry. It wasn't her, though. She crawled over to a pile of blankets and carefully picked something up. It was too dark to see what it was. She cautiously lit a glow-rod. Now he could see that it was a baby. Not the one in the previous vision, though. This one had dark coloring. Something--the Force?--told him that it was a girl. Amidala soothed it, whispering endearments. Whose baby was it? The baby she had miscarried after the wedding? Was the Force showing him an alternative future? If this baby had lived, would it have fulfilled the prophecy? He wanted to reach out Amidala, to plead with her to uncover the child's face so that he could get a clearer view, but no words came. The vision faded.

  
  


He was trembling, and he couldn't stop. He believed that the Force was telling him that the prophecy would be fulfilled. He knew that he should tell his Master. Yet he did not.

  
  



	16. Chapter 16The Gamorrean StandOff

  
  


Chapter 16--The Gamorrean Stand-Off

  
  


Beru brought her lightsaber down, heavily, just missing Ben. He jumped back, rapidly swinging his lightsaber around to engage hers. But he was also aware of Owen Lars coming after him from behind. He backed away until he could see both Beru and Owen.

  
  


"Did you miss me deliberately, Beru? Or were you actually trying to kill me?" he mocked her.

  
  


"Drop your lightsaber. You'll find out."

  
  


"No thanks."

  
  


"No faith in me?" Beru puffed between parries. "I'm hurt."

  
  


"I have plenty of faith in you. It's him I'm worried about," he pointed, not to Owen as Beru expected, but to Luke. 

  
  


There it was again, the hateful suggestion that Luke was manipulating her. But Beru wasn't stupid; she knew that Ben was more than capable of manipulation himself.

  
  


So instead of denying it, she said, "You better hope he likes you."

  
  


"No such luck," Ben said.

  
  


Beru marveled at his ability to keep both her and Owen at bay. But he could not do it forever. All three of them were tiring, but Ben most of all. He saw it, too. So he turned and charged Beru, knocking the lightsaber out of her hands, and grabbing her around the waist. He held her back tightly against him, his lightsaber at her throat.

  
  


"You wouldn't," Owen said, between gasps of air.

  
  


"Maybe. Maybe not," Ben said. He was gasping, too.

  
  


Left deserted on the ground, Luke began to wail. Owen flinched at the sound, went to him and picked him up awkwardly, trying to quiet him. Luke was unreceptive, wanting Beru. But Ben still held her tightly. He and Owen faced each other, still breathing heavily. Owen was, quite literally, left holding the baby.

  
  


"And you, Owen, would *you* have killed me?" Ben asked, staring at his brother.

  
  


Owen did not answer. 

  
  


"And for what?" Ben asked. 

  
  


"We're married," Owen said, gesturing toward Beru. "Legally, and all that."

  
  


Ben looked down at Beru. "Quick work," was his comment.

  
  


"Let her go," Owen said, trying to calm an increasingly agitated Luke.

  
  


"No--we'll talk first," Ben said.

  
  


"What about?" Owen asked wearily.

  
  


"I want to know why you betrayed me, Owen," Ben said. "That did surprise me."

  
  


"Aren't you going to ask Beru why *she* betrayed you?" Owen asked wryly.

  
  


"No, he won't," Beru said bitterly, over the sizzle of Ben's lightsaber, "That's because he *expects* all women to be faithless."

  
  


Ben tightened his grip on her, but he said coolly enough: "You may be right, Beru." He turned his eyes to Owen. "I'm waiting, Owen."

  
  


Owen said, hopelessly, "What will all this solve, Ben? Leave it."

  
  


"Did I fail you in some way? I tried my best--"

  
  


"Leave it, I said!"

  
  


Both men were silent for a moment. They were still breathing heavily from the duel.

  
  


Then Ben said, and his voice took on a pleading tone: "Owen, can't you see? I'm trying to repair this before it prejudices your future forever."

  
  


Beru tried to kick her way out of Ben's grip. No good.

  
  


"Nobody needs to know," Ben went on, attention all on his brother, despite his iron grip on his captive. "I'll forget about it--erase from my memory banks. I swear. Owen--please--I'm begging you. Don't let one mistake ruin your life. I know how it can happen, believe me. One weak moment, and you do something dishonorable. You regret it later. You wish it never happened. But you can't repair it, no matter how hard you try, and the consequences start out small and get bigger and more terrible by the moment--"

  
  


He's not talking about Owen's life anymore, Beru realized. He's talking about his own. And this wasn't a manipulation, either. Ben was deadly serious. Owen seemed to sense it, too. Beru was not sure how much a blood relationship affected a Force bond. Of her own relatives, only her father had been Force strong. She remembered being far closer to him than to her mother and brothers, but she wasn't sure it was the Force or simply a matter of partiality.

  
  


But Ben and Owen were full brothers, and they were both very Force-strong. She sensed that despite Owen's resentment and Ben's neglect, they still had an affinity born of shared background and blood line. Owen's not at all sure he did the right thing, Beru thought, and Ben knows it.

  
  


Beru wanted to plead with Owen to stand by her, but she couldn't form the words, couldn't ask.

  
  


"Let me take child back to his mother," Ben was saying. "He won't suffer, I promise you."

  
  


"And Beru?" Owen said, slowly.

  
  


"She needs help, too, can't you see that?" Ben said, "Amidala wasn't the only one who had a breakdown, I think. This obsession with the child--and it is an obsession, Owen, most definitely--isn't healthy. Not for her, or Luke."

  
  


You're preaching to the converted on *that* point, Beru thought. But when I had a crush on you for five years, there was nothing wrong with mind then, I guess.

  
  


"I don't need to tell the Council anything if you go back now. We can still keep it quiet. Get her some treatment--"

  
  


"That's too kind of you," Beru snarled up at him. "But don't bother; I don't need any treatment, and I don't want to go back! Owen, is this how you keep your promises?"

  
  


Owen flushed. Ben said: "You had no right to extract any promises from him, Beru, and you know it. And you know why, too."

  
  


"No, I don't!"

  
  


"Don't pretend you married him because you were in love with him," Ben said angrily. 

  
  


"You wanted him to marry Amidala!" Beru cried. "Was that intended as a love match?"

  
  


Ben turned pale with anger under his tan; he hadn't been sure how much Beru actually knew. He shook Beru's shoulders sharply. "I expected better from you, Beru." 

"Better than you, you mean?"

  
  


"Yes," Ben said slowly, suddenly seeming very tired. He looked at his brother. "So, did it work?"

  
  


Owen didn't answer.

  
  


"You thought being married would make a difference, didn't you?" Ben said. "It didn't, did it? 

  
  


It might have, if we had had enough time, Beru screamed in her mind. But even yet, she couldn't bring herself to beg Owen to keep trying. She did not know why. 

  
  


"Don't deceive yourself," Ben said. "It never *will* make a difference."

  
  


Owen looked pleadingly at Beru. Contradict him, his eyes entreated her. Beru looked hopelessly back. I didn't lie to him when I asked him to stay in the marriage, she thought. I can't lie to him now.

  
  


And as if giving voice to her despair, Luke began to howl.

  
  
  
  
  
  


to be continued....


	17. Chapter 17Ben Meets His Match

Chapter Seventeen--Ben Meets His Match

  
  


After what seemed to a very long time, Owen's eyes finally dropped to the child in his arms. Very carefully, he set Luke down on the ground before him. He straightened, and gave both Ben and Beru a hard stare before turning his back on them and walking away.

  
  


This was so clearly 'a-plague-on-both-your-houses' gesture that even Ben looked daunted. He shut down his lightsaber, and released Beru. She scooped up the child, but as she did so, her eyes searched for Owen. He had disappeared into the trees.

  
  


"He appears to have disowned both of us," Ben said, drily. "Maybe we should now debate who deserves it more."

  
  


"You get my vote," Beru said hoarsely. Her eyes were burning. 

  
  


"And you get mine."

  
  


Without answering, Beru started after Owen. Ben stopped her before she had gone more than a few feet.

  
  


"No, you don't," he said. "We're leaving. Right now."

  
  


"You can leave anytime," Beru said, still staring after Owen, "I'm going after Owen."

  
  


But Ben had a tight grip on her upper arm, and he wasn't letting go. "Leave him alone, Beru. Haven't you done enough? This ends right here. You and the child are coming with me now; I'll be back for Owen later." 

  
  


If he's still here by then, Beru thought. She could sense that Ben shared that fear, but she knew him well enough to know that it wouldn't stop him. Not for a minute.

  
  


It didn't, either. He relieved Beru of her lightsaber, clipped it on his own belt, and hustled her and Luke back down the path to the shuttle port.

  
  


"Let me go home and pack," Beru stuttered. "I don't have any of Luke's things----"

  
  


"Not this time," Ben said. "If you need anything, we'll buy it. Let's go."

  
  


At the shuttle port, he purchased three tickets to Bakanir, and discovered that the next flight was scheduled for very early morning. Since their disheveled appearance elicited stares, Ben allowed Beru to clean herself up and to purchase some items for Luke. Beru did so numbly. If this had been Owen, I would have planned out five different escape routes already, she thought, so why not now? It occurred to her suddenly that Owen had never suppressed her. Himself, yes; Ben, yes. But not her. Having watched him deal with Ben, she realized that he could have done so at any time. He had chosen not to. She remembered how smug she had been over giving him the slip, and suddenly felt deeply ashamed of herself. And not for the first time on this watch. Probably not for the last, either. Tears choked her throat, but she forced them back. Crying over a man she didn't even love; how much sense did that make?

  
  


Ben was careful; she was not allowed to be alone. In the past, his company would have delighted her. Now his presence seemed an intolerable burden. With no Owen in view, and no clue as to where he had gone, Beru felt restless and anxious, and she communicated this to Luke, who started to fuss. The last half hour before the shuttle arrived seemed endless.

  
  


It was before dawn, and the shuttle was nearly empty. Ben managed to obtain a small cabin, with a bunk. Beru quickly tucked Luke into it. She did not lie down beside him, however. Though she was exhausted, she knew that she would not be able to sleep. Ben ordered cafs from the shuttle server-droid. Obviously, he didn't intend to sleep either. 

  
  


He handed her a caf; Beru took it sullenly. She did not drink it.

  
  


"There's nothing in it," Ben said drily. "Except what should be there."

  
  


"I'm not thirsty," Beru said, putting it down on the fold-out table beside her. 

  
  


Ben shrugged and sipped his drink. He ignored Beru's hostility.

  
  


"Are you just going to leave Owen there?" Beru burst out suddenly. She was certain this was a mistake. Something--the Force?--was sounding alarms bells in her brain. 

  
  


Ben raised his brows. "Owen's an adult," he said, coolly. "And he made his choice rather clear, don't you think? Besides, I don't much fancy a trip back with the both of you. I might end up outnumbered. Again."

  
  


"Hope she was worth it," Beru muttered.

  
  


Ben stiffened. "Don't start," he said.

  
  


Beru stared at him. "Did you break up my engagement?" she blurted out. She silently cursed herself; it sounded so inane.

  
  


To her surprise, Ben looked embarrassed. "Is that what Owen told you?" he asked.

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"Well, it's not the whole story, but I'm not surprised you didn't hear it all. Rhys did come to see me and asked about you--and me. He'd had it from a third party. Care to guess who that third party was?"

  
  


"Not really."

  
  


"Well, I'll tell you anyway. It turns out that my baby brother, you know the one who hates crowds and despises tap-cafes, just happened to be in a crowded tap-cafe, and by a singular coincidence one in which he encountered your fiancee. According to said fiancee, Owen invited Rhys to have a drink with him, if you can imagine it."

  
  


Beru, with some difficulty, tried; but failed. Owen was notoriously anti-social, especially with other Knights, and under his gruffness, she had discovered, he was painfully shy.

  
  


"After they'd had a few drinks--Owen has very little capacity for alcohol, I grant you--Owen apparently started to gossip. Told Rhys you had a notorious crush on me, and he was second choice. Frankly, I'm not sure that he didn't embellish the story a little--or maybe a lot."

  
  


Beru stared at him blankly.

  
  


"Rhys was upset. Not unnaturally, I suppose. Charged over to me and asked me if it was true. I denied most of it, but I'm afraid he didn't believe me."

  
  


I just wonder just how much of it you actually denied, Beru thought suspiciously, but she said nothing.

  
  


"I'm sorry about that, Beru, and I mean it. I didn't want to mention it to you. I doubted you would have understood."

  
  


"So you knew all the time?" Beru asked dully.

  
  


"Um, yes. If you mean about the crush."

  
  


"I suppose you found it very amusing," Beru said, her voice trembling. 

  
  


"Not at all," Ben said, smiling at her. "I took it as a compliment."

  
  


It was a very conscious exercising of his very considerable charm. It had always worked on her before, of course. Last year, I'd have been thrilled by that comment, Beru thought sourly. Now she felt a sudden surge of anger. He thinks he can control me that way. Still. But not this time. Not ever again.

  
  


She seized the caf from the table beside her and dashed it into Ben's face. She used his confusion to seize her light-saber from his belt. But Ben recovered from his surprise faster than she had anticipated; he knocked her off her feet before she could light her saber. The saber itself clattered to the floor. Beru was both shorter and lighter than Ben, but sheer fury lent her strength. She scrambled to her knees, and recovered the saber. Ben kicked her wrist, which made her drop it, yelping in pain. He then grabbed her by the injured wrist, and hauled her to her feet.

  
  


"Enough!" he said, angrily. "Since you refuse to behave voluntarily, I'll have to force you."

  
  


Beru slumped to the bunk where Luke watched them wide-eyed. She knew what this meant. Ben could control her through the Force. He was both stronger in the Force than she was, and more skilled at mind manipulation. It was an expedient much frowned upon among the Knights, except in emergencies. She supposed she should be flattered that she now fell under that category for him.

  
  


The rest of the trip was a nightmare. Ben's mind manipulation made Beru see everything from a great distance. Her head, her limbs felt horribly heavy. She could not speak. When they finally arrived on Bakanir, Ben picked up Luke and disembarked with him in his arms, leaving her to follow as best she could. This obvious disregard infuriated her, but even her anger was now in slow motion.

  
  


Beru's feet felt weighted, and she could barely trudge along in Ben's wake. She could detect Luke's confusion, but as long as she was close, he was quiet. Ben carried him rather awkwardly, trying at the same time to produce the necessary paperwork for the officials at the inspection station.

  
  


Ben was handing over their passports. Trust him to have taken care of that. 

  
  


"--and this is my wife. I have both our passports---" Ben was saying smoothly to the official.

  
  


My wife, Beru thought bitterly. That phrase would have thrilled her not so long ago. Times had changed, indeed. Now it seemed like a dreadful mockery of her hopes and dreams. Why hadn't she used her saber on him? It had been within her ability to save the day, and she had bungled it. She didn't blame Owen for disowning her.

  
  


"Your wife?" a voice said. 

  
  


Surely she knew that voice? It wasn't Owen, though. She wished she could raise her head to view the speaker, but it felt too heavy.

  
  


"Yes," Ben said, coolly. "We've been married five years."

  
  


"That's strange," the disembodied voice said. "Because I know this lady. I presided at her wedding, three months ago. And as I recall, you weren't the groom."

  
  


It was Captain Rijdan. With a fierce effort, Beru forced her head up. The Captain was staring at her. He had several underlings behind him. They were all armed, Beru noted with sudden hope.

  
  


Ben smiled easily. "You're mistaken, I think." But he was using all his ability in the Force to control Beru and keep Luke quiet. He could not spare any to manipulate the Captain's mind. 

  
  


"Oh no, I'm not," Captain Rijdan said, giving Ben a distinctly jaundiced look. He came forward and took Beru's hand. He kissed it, with typical Bakaniri gallantry. 

  
  


"Are you all right, Ma'am?" he asked her gently. Beru could not answer. He looked puzzled.

  
  


Beru received a mental instruction from Ben: nod your head, along with a push through the Force to enforce his will.

  
  


She resisted it. She would not--she would not--

  
  


Ben pushed through the Force once again--harder this time.

  
  


Very slowly, Beru moved. It felt as though she was shifting the biggest boulder in the galaxy with her nose, but she managed it--she shook her head.

  
  


"She doesn't seem agree with you, sir," Captain Rijdan said, icily. His glance took in her swollen eyes, the gash on her forehead, and the bruise developing by her mouth--a legacy of her fight with Ben on the shuttle.

  
  


Ben came quickly to Beru's side. Beru managed to shy away from his grip and clutch the Captain's tunic. Her eyes pleaded with him. Fuel to a Bakaniri fire. As one, the Captain and his men drew their blasters. 


	18. Chapter 18Vaduz and After

Okay, folks, I don't usually respond to reviews specifically unless somebody emails me. But in light of padfoot963's review, I think I need to make something clear here. Several of you have complained that I've made villains of Ben and/or Amidala in this story. This was never my intention. 

  
  


Just remember, this story is told mostly from Beru's POV. I could write it from Ben's POV, same plot exactly, and make you think she was exasperating in the extreme. ;) For instance, Owen and Ben and Beru all tell different versions of the breaking of her engagement. Who's telling the truth? Of course, they all are. Ben's stressed out, miserable over Anakin's turning, Owen's defection and Beru's intransigence; he has a whole galaxy collapsing around him, and he just doesn't want to be where he is. In other words, he's not at his best. Good people can do bad things; just as bad people can do good ones. He's thinks he's doing the right thing here. Maybe he's deceiving himself. Maybe he's misguided. Maybe he's just distracted. This does *not* make him a villain, nor evil.

As for Amidala, I think I made it clear that she was suffering from post-partum, like that wretched woman in Texas who drowned her five children. She may be psychotic, but it's not her fault, guys. She's not evil, either, though obviously, like Ben, she's overwrought and she's done something she's ashamed of. In fact, I was considering leaving the Luke story-line for awhile, and going back to Amidala and Leia and seeing what happened to them after Beru decamped with Luke.

I've really enjoyed writing this story, and though it has never been as popular as my first one, it has had some devoted readers--Katie, Tusken, Renee, Brigantia, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, Jedi Betty, Shy_Introvert, Phoenix, and several others have reviewed regularly. Thanks, guys, I always appreciate feedback and suggestions. (Hi, there, Obaona, I've read and enjoyed your stories on theforce.net. Glad you like this one.) I can tolerate flames--everybody's entitled to their opinion, and I've never argued about it when I've received one. Threats, however, are a different story. (Yeah, okay, padfoot, I know you were joking--kinda.)

  
  


Okay, nuff said. On with the show.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Chapter Eighteen--Vaduz and After

  
  


That night Beru stumbled off the Bakanir shuttle at the Vaduz spaceport. She was dreadfully tired, and Luke felt like a dead weight in her arms. Luckily, the ever-gallant Captain Rijdan had sent a young lieutenant with her as escort. The Captain, in fact, had tried to get her to stay on Bakanir with his family for a few days. But Beru had been desperate to get back to Vaduz. The Force seemed to be screaming at her; something was wrong, and she feared it concerned Owen. Lt. Wolders proved an invaluable help on the shuttle; he obligingly minded Luke while Beru tried to sleep; and then played with the baby while Beru, unable to sleep, paced the floor of their cabin. 

Beru collapsed on a bench with Luke and watched while the energetic lieutenant rented a speeder and loaded their meager belongings into it. He also did the driving, for which Beru thanked the gods; she was in no shape by this point to do it herself. 

  
  


Finally they arrived at the small home she and Owen had rented. At first she thought the smallholding was deserted. It was past dusk, but there were no lights on. The windows were open, and the door was ajar. She stepped in cautiously. There was no one in the small parlour-hall, but Owen was in residence, she could sense it.

  
  


The bedroom door was open. She shifted a sleepy Luke in her arms and peered inside. Owen was lying on the narrow bed, fully clothed. She could see his chest rise and fall slowly, but something was wrong. Beru moved closer. There was a large flask on the bedside table. She picked it up, and grimaced when she read the label. It was the best Corellian whiskey, old stock. She felt like throwing the bottle at him. Was it for this she had forced herself to return immediately? Damn, damn, damn.

  
  


She took Luke out to the kitchen, where the lieutenant was waiting. She noted gratefully that he had already secured the door and windows. 

  
  


"Everything seems alright," she said, stifling her anger at Owen, and smiling at him. "So I don't want to keep you any longer. Please thank the Captain very much for me, would you? I don't know what I would have done without your help."

  
  


The lieutenant blushed becomingly, bowed, kissed her hand and assured her it had been his pleasure. He even sounded sincere, Beru thought. She was touched, and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, which made him blush even harder. After assuring her that it had been no trouble at all, ma'am, several times, he took the speeder back to the port. 

  
  


When she saw the speeder leave the clearing, Beru slumped against the door-frame. She was exhausted.

  
  


The baby woke up and began to fuss; to keep him quiet, Beru decided to breast feed him. She had been trying to wean him recently, but felt unable to cope with that now. The rocking chair she usually used was in the bedroom. A glow rod, set low, gave her enough light to see by. Owen was still unconscious; she saw no reason to disturb him. He'd feel bad enough tomorrow.

  
  


Eventually Luke fell asleep. Beru detached him gently. She should lay him down in his crib, she thought, but she suddenly felt too tired to move. Reaction, she supposed. Hardly surprising, given the events of the last few days.

  
  


She looked wearily over at Owen, and saw to her surprise that his eyes were open, and he was looking at her. I'm *really* tired if I didn't sense that, she thought.

  
  


Then Owen said: "Where's Ben?" His voice was thick and rusty.

  
  


"Bakanir," Beru said.

  
  


"What's he doing there?"

  
  


"He's in jail," Beru said.

  
  


Owen stifled a laugh. "That seems to be the eventual fate of everybody who tries to get that kid away from you," he said. 

  
  


Beru didn't answer. She felt too exhausted to speak.

  
  


"How did you manage it this time?" Owen asked.

  
  


He didn't seemed disoriented, which surprised Beru, given the evidence of the alcohol he'd consumed.

  
  


"I didn't, not really," she said. "We went through inspection. Ben was controlling me, so my reactions were slowed down, and I couldn't talk. He had passports passing him off as my husband. Which would have been fine except for one thing. Guess who was doing the inspection?"

  
  


Comprehension dawned. "Captain Rijdan."

  
  


"Right first time. He knew I wasn't married to Ben, of course. Came up and asked me what was going on. I still couldn't talk, but I got the message across. I appealed to the good Captain's galaxy-size sense of chivalry. Poor Ben! He didn't even know what hit him!"

  
  


"I know that feeling, alright," Owen said.

  
  


"I'll bet you do. They charged Ben with abduction, forcible confinement, assault, and---worst crime of all where the Bakaniri are concerned--unchivalrous behaviour. According to Captain Rijdan, the last one carries the biggest penalty."

  
  


Owen was silent for a moment. Then he said. "Why did you come back here?"

  
  


Good question, Beru thought. Damn good question. I wish I really knew the answer. 

  
  


"I wanted to apologize to you, Owen," she said finally.

  
  


"For what? I broke my word to you. After all those promises I made, too. Didn't take much, either, did it? I thought you'd never forgive me."

  
  


"I've thought about it, too, and Ben was right: I should have never asked you in the first place."

  
  


"I didn't realize that I was *that* bad in bed," Owen said.

  
  


Beru had just enough energy to slap Owen's face, which she did, sharply.

  
  


"Stop that! I'm sick of it!"

  
  


Owen blinked at her owlishly.

  
  


"I don't want to hear any more self-pity from you! Ever again!" 

  
  


Owen stared back at her. He seemed rather puzzled.

  
  


Beru suddenly began to feel very uneasy. She could not sense Owen's usual suppression. In fact, she could not sense anything at all from him. What was going on here?

  
  


"Owen, there's an empty bottle of Corellian on the bedstand. Did you drink the whole thing?"

  
  


Owen looked confused. "I think so," he said tentatively. "I needed something to wash the spice down with. It tasted awful."

  
  


Beru forgot her exhaustion; she leapt to her feet, and grabbed his arm.

  
  


"Spice? What spice? Where did you get it? How much did you take?"

  
  


Owen knit his brow. "I can't remember how much. Not anymore. Got it at the port. The wrappers are in the trash disposal, over there."

  
  


Beru was at the disposal in seconds flat, and counted four spice wrappers--enough to stop a charging bantha. Combined with a whole quart of Corellian, too. She deposited Luke in his crib with scant ceremony, and ran for the holo. Her hands shook violently, but she managed to punch in an emergency call.

  
  


A stray memory from her childhood then assailed her: her younger brother had eaten something poisonous, and her mother had made him drink salt water to force him to vomit. She had a saline draught ready in seconds and ran to the bedroom. Owen's eyes were closed, and he was laid out like a--oh no, he wasn't, not like a corpse---

  
  


"Owen! Owen, wake up, wake up, damn you!" She slapped him again, hard. Owen's eyes snapped open. Beru grabbed him by his hair and forced the saline solution down his throat. Most of it ran off, but he swallowed some of it. He gagged.

  
  


"Drink it, or I swear, I'll kill you myself!" Beru cried, giving him another dose. All of it went down Owen's throat this time. And most of it came back up shortly thereafter, for Owen began to be thoroughly sick. 

  
  


Beru alternated between fear and fury. "Trust you," she said, shaking him, and not at all gently, "to put the spice wrappers tidily away in the disposal! Absolutely typical! An orderly suicide attempt! Damn you to hell!"

  
  


Owen was seized by another wave of nausea. Beru held him while he was sick, her arms around his waist, and her face braced against his back. She stopped yelling, and started sobbing.

  
  


The wail of the emergency siren sounded outside.

  
  
  
  


(To be continued....)

  
  



	19. Chapter 19Social Services

  
  


Chapter Nineteen----Social Services

  
  


Someone was speaking in the next room; Beru opened her eyes, and for a moment she was not sure where she was. The room was dim, and she was in bed, but it wasn't the smallholding, she was sure.

  
  


She saw white walls through the gloom, and medical equipment. It was a medcenter. 

  
  


The door of her room was open, and Beru could hear two men talking:

  
  


"We had a emergency call from them--"

  
  


"Who placed it?"

  
  


"The woman, I think. Though by the time I got there, she was pretty distraught. One moment she was hugging the man and crying, and asking him why he did it. The next, she was slapping his face, and telling he'd be lucky to die, because if he didn't, she'd kill him herself. At least the slaps kept him conscious, and we took it from there. He'll make it."

  
  


"Was he serious?"

  
  


"Hard to say. But she thought so, anyway. I had to give her a sedative to calm her down."

  
  


"Did it work?"

  
  


"Only too well. She passed out, right then and there. The minute she hit the floor, the baby tuned up. He's small, but his lungs are in excellent shape. He demonstrated that for us for a solid hour. I thought I was going deaf there for awhile."

  
  


"What stopped him?"

  
  


"Sheer exhaustion. We also put his crib in his mother's room, and that shut him up. Thank Hoth."

  
  


Beru looked to her left and saw that Luke was indeed in a crib next to her bed, fast asleep. She also saw a woman sitting at the foot of it, busily writing on a clipboard. 

  
  


"Who are you?" Beru asked, raising her head.

  
  


"Social Services Worker," the woman said. "Second class," she added conscientiously.

  
  


Oh great, Beru thought. One of those. She had had too much of their attention when her family had been killed. A smarmy bunch who kept insisting that she needed grief counseling. As if she needed counseling on how to grieve! 

  
  


"I have to make a report," the woman said, turning on a light, and rising to close the door. "This appears to be a domestic dispute--"

  
  


"It wasn't," Beru said, impatiently.

  
  


"According to the medic, you're covered in bruises. And you have a gash on your head."

  
  


"Take a good look at my husband. You'll see the same there."

  
  


"Well, yes," the woman admitted. "The medic told me that, too. So what happened?"

  
  


"We had a difference of opinion--with a family member. He's in jail right now--on Bakanir. Leave it alone."

  
  


The woman opened her mouth and then closed it. 

  
  


"About your husband--"

  
  


Beru glared at her: "Yes?"

  
  


"That was a suicide attempt--you know that, don't you? Quite a serious one."

  
  


"I know."

  
  


"Care to tell me about it?"

  
  


"No, I don't. It's none of your business."

  
  


The woman bristled. "I'm only trying to help," she said.

  
  


"Then just leave us alone. I can deal with it," Beru said. She had always prided herself on her ability to cope with crises. Ben used to praise her level-headedness--no, better not think about that, or him. But there was no reason to believe that this crisis was any different. None at all.

  
  


"Your husband's awake, and he's asking to see you."

  
  


Beru looked away. "Is he alright?" she asked, more quietly.

  
  


"The medtech says he'll make a full recovery. It was a close-run thing, though."

  
  


Beru didn't answer. She looked over at Luke. He was curled up in his crib, his thumb firmly in his mouth. That'll ruin his teeth, she thought absently. I'll have to break him of it. 

  
  


"What do you plan to say to him?" the woman asked.

  
  


I wish, I wish, I *wish* this woman would leave me alone. "How about, hello, Owen?"

  
  


"This isn't a joke," the woman said, with heavy disapproval. "He's in a fragile state right now. You need to be very sympathetic."

  
  


Beru repressed a desire to roll her eyes. "I don't agree," she said sharply. "Men hate overt displays of emotion. I haven't the slightest intention of fawning all over him. He'd never believe it, anyway. Owen's very reserved, you know. I absolutely refuse to embarrass him. He'd prefer the stiff upper lip, I'm sure of it."

  
  


"I don't know about him," the woman said, sarcastically, "but it's obvious *you'd* prefer it. Men like sympathy."

  
  


"I'm right," Beru said, trying to control her temper. "You watch."

  
  


She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The other woman, grimacing, helped her into a robe. Before leaving, Beru checked on Luke; he was still blissfully asleep. Safe enough for now. She stifled her envy of his state, and followed the social services worker to Owen's room, hoping a stray speeder might run her over before they reached their destination.

  
  


No such luck, however. They found Owen sitting up, pillows propped behind his back.. He was unshaven, and rather disheveled. I bet he hates that, Beru thought, anxiously. He looked alert enough to her, but his skin was almost as grey as his eyes. They stared at each other. Beru suddenly felt Owen's desperate discomfort through the Force--he wasn't suppressing at all. She had frequently wished he wouldn't in the past, and was now in the position of taking it back. 

  
  


Forward march. She went to his bedside, and plopped down in a chair rather ungracefully--her legs had suddenly refused to support her any longer, but hopefully he hadn't noticed. The social services worker stood by the door, watching. I'll show this silly bitch how it's done, Beru thought.

  
  


"Nice try," she said curtly to Owen, "But it didn't work, did it?"

  
  


Owen gave her a blank look.

  
  


"Do you know what the penalties for oath-breaking are in this system?" Beru asked, sternly.

  
  


Owen shook his head slightly. It would help if he'd say something, Beru thought wildly. But he didn't.

  
  


"Well, you'll find out if you try that again," she said brusquely. "You swore a wedding-oath to me, and I intend to see that you honor it. To the very last drop of that wedding cordial they dosed us both with. Bakaniri law is very strict on that point."

  
  


Owen still gave her a rather glassy-eyed stare and silence. Beru began to feel desperate, or more desperate than usual.

  
  


"There's no escape, Owen," she said, folding her arms. "You're stuck with me."

  
  


Still no reaction. 

  
  


Finally, after the silence had stretched out almost unbearably, Owen reached over and took one of Beru's hands in his. His hand was cold and dry.

  
  


"I'm so very sorry, Beru," he said simply.

  
  


Beru then completed her stellar demonstration of a stiff upper lip by casting herself onto Owen's chest and bursting into tears. 

  
  
  
  


(to be continued...)

  
  



	20. Chapter 20Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yoursel...

Chapter Twenty--Pick Yourself Up, Dust Yourself Off, Start All Over Again

  
  


Beru was dimly aware of the social services worker trying to peel her off Owen's chest. Owen waved the woman away. As Beru wept, he stroked her hair awkwardly, but he said nothing. 

  
  


"Stop this!" the woman said, pulling at Beru's sleeve, "You're upsetting him!"

  
  


"I'm not upset," Owen said to her, sharply. "But I will be, if you don't leave--right now."

  
  


Something in his voice did the trick; after a hesitation, Beru heard her nemesis stalk out of the room. If she hadn't been crying so hard, she would've cheered. 

  
  


Owen let her cry, for which she was grateful. She wasn't sure she could stop, not just now. I'm having hysterics, she thought in bewilderment. She had always disdained women who indulged in such practices. No self control. Gave their sex a bad name. And of course, she'd never do anything like that--never. Well, never say never, she thought.

  
  


When the fit of weeping gradually dissolved into gasps and hiccups, Owen gave her a glass of water from his bedside table and made her drink it. I should be looking after him, Beru thought wildly, but she meekly drank the water.

  
  


Owen patted her back; Beru took another sip of water, and tried hard to get a grip on her emotions. She found it difficult to meet his eye. She sat hunched on his bed, clutching the glass.

  
  


"Where's the baby?" Owen asked. He actually thought to ask, Beru noted. Voluntarily, no less.

  
  


"He's asleep in my room," Beru said.

  
  


"I envy him," Owen said. Beru glanced at him. Owen met her eyes squarely.

  
  


"Why did you--why did you try *that?*" Beru asked. She refused to say the word.

  
  


Owen stared at her. "Don't you know?" he asked.

  
  


"No," Beru said, sharply.

  
  


"Maybe I just wanted to be unpredictable," Owen sighed, "For once in my life."

  
  


"You want to know the truth? I think you're completely unpredictable. All the time."

  
  


Owen said nothing. He still wasn't suppressing, though. His pain and embarrassment were still very evident. Beru could not bear this. Think of a distraction, you idiot, she told herself.

  
  


"Do you want--do you want--" Beru stuttered. Oh, spit it out, she thought to herself disgustedly. "Do you want to try again?"

  
  


Owen gaze finally dropped. "Try what?" he asked.

  
  


Fair enough question, Beru thought. 

  
  


"Our marriage," she said. "Such as it is."

  
  


Another fair question. Beru wished she felt less shattered.

"Do you?" Owen asked. 

  
  


Beru could not answer; she merely nodded.

  
  


Owen didn't look up. "I spent all the money," he said. 

  
  


"The money?" 

  
  


"The money we saved for the passports," Owen said. "All of it. For the spice and the Correllian."

  
  


Beru reviewed her options. She could get mad or she could rise above it. 

  
  


She rose above it.

  
  


"No to worry," she said. "Ben had a full set of passports on him. I remembered to pick his pocket when they arrested him. We can't use them ourselves, because he could trace them, but I expect we can exchange them for a new set."

  
  


Owen stared at her. "You remembered to pick his pocket?"

  
  


Beru grinned at him suddenly. "Oh, yes. Are you surprised? Really?"

  
  


He gave his rare laugh. "No, I'm not surprised." 

  
  


The social services worker then came in, Luke in her arms. "He was crying," she said in an accusatory voice, looking at Beru. No, he wasn't, Beru thought, but this woman was going to have her way, no matter what.

  
  


The woman gave the baby to Owen, obviously, if clumsily, seeking to comfort him. Beru stood to take Luke when he started to cry, as he usually did in such situations. He didn't this time, though, she noted with surprise. In fact, he sat on Owen's lap, and inspected him with great interest, thumb still firmly in mouth. She leaned forward and gently removed it. Luke scowled at her. She felt startled; he suddenly looked like--Owen.

  
  


"Thank you," Owen said to the woman, with dismissal clear in his voice. She took the hint, yet again.

  
  


"I wonder what he thinks of all this?" Owen said, after she left the room.

  
  


"All they think about at that age is their next meal," Beru said, still startled by Luke's sudden transformation.

  
  


"Don't bet on it," Owen said. "At least in this case."

  
  


"Well," Beru said, drawing up a chair, "If not, he got an eyeful on the shuttle back to Bakanir. Ben and I had a knock-down drag-out fight, and Luke saw it all."

  
  


"I noticed the bruise," Owen said. "Who won?"

  
  


"He did," Beru said briefly. "That round."

  
  


There was silence for a moment. Owen then dangled his hospital wrist tags in front of the baby, trying to divert him. Luke dutifully made a grab at them.

  
  


"Why do I get the feeling he's just humoring me?" Owen asked.

  
  


"Don't ask me," Beru said, ruefully. "I get that feeling all the time."

  
  


Luke popped his thumb back into his mouth, and promptly fell asleep on Owen's shoulder. Beru gave him a glance freighted with both amusement and exasperation. Just when she had him pegged as a high-strung child, he always contrived to upset all her preconceptions. She wondered darkly if he had picked *this* habit up from Owen, too.

  
  


The social services worker appeared yet again, practically bursting with self-importance. Beru suppressed a wild desire to brain the woman with a bedpan; preferably a full one. It was obviously going to be difficult to get any privacy at all with her in the immediate vicinity. 

  
  


"There's a holo message for you," she said, looking at Beru. "From Bakanir. Shall I put it through?"

  
  


"Sure," Beru said, struggling to keep her temper.

  
  


The woman strutted to the holo monitor and switched it on. Captain Rijdan's face appeared.

  
  


"Ah," the Captain said. "Good morning to you, ma'am. Hope you're well. And your husband, too."

  
  


Owen glanced at her, his brows raised. But if the Captain knew why Owen had been hospitalized, he was too much of a gentleman to say so. 

  
  


As it turned out, the Captain had bigger Hutts to feed. "I just wanted to let you know that your abductor elected."

  
  


"Elected?" Beru asked, confused.

  
  


"On Bakanir," the Captain explained, "the accused has the right to elect to be tried civilly or in a trial by combat. He chose combat. Under the rules, the victim has the right to fight the offender themselves or nominate someone else to do so."

  
  


"You want me to fight him?" Beru said.

  
  


"Nice little lady like you, obviously *you* can't fight him," the Captain said. Owen gave a snort, which the Captain sweetly ignored. "And your husband---"

  
  


"Owen isn't up to it," Beru blurted out. She had no desire to see any more fighting between the brothers.

  
  


"Yes, I understand that," the Captain said discreetly. "So I called to ask if you'd nominate me to act in his stead. It would give me great pleasure, ma'am, to serve you in this matter."

"Oh, Captain, I couldn't ask that of you! You've done so much for us already!"

  
  


"Nonsense, ma'am! I'd be happy to assist you! A miserable abductor and abuser of ladies--he needs to be taught a lesson, and I'd be delighted to do it for you!"

  
  


"Absolutely not, Captain! And I don't want my husband to fight him, either," Beru said firmly.

  
  


"In that case, we'll have to let him go," the Captain said, shocked. "Those are the rules."

  
  


Beru suddenly noticed that Owen had moved the still slumbering Luke to his pillow and was getting out of bed. She tried to push him away from the holo-monitor. No such luck. 

  
  


"Captain Rijdan," Owen said, "I accept my wife's nomination. We'll need some time, but we'll be there. Make the arrangements."

  
  



	21. Chapter 21Asking Ann Landers

Many thanks to all who reviewed. Feedback makes my day. Sorry for the delay, Renee; a nasty attack of DRL. Welcome, Ash Darklighter, I'm an admirer of your stories, so I was pleased to hear you liked this one.

  
  
  
  


Chapter Twenty-One: Asking Ann Landers

  
  


Beru often missed her mother, much more than she had ever thought she would. After all, she had been a Da's girl, and at the time of the accident in which her family died, she and her mother had been on poor terms. Seventeen is a difficult age, Beru thought, and when your adolescent daughter is a Force-strong, and you're not, forget it. Beru had loved her father, with whom she shared the Force; she had considered her mother a bore and a nag who favored her sons over her daughter. 

  
  


It had not really occurred to Beru, either as a child or as an adolescent, that her parents had not been happy together. But looking back from an adult perspective was a different story. From a distance, she could see that her father had been a charming, feckless man, who drifted from project to project (each one absolutely guaranteed-he was certain--to make their fortunes) leaving his increasingly bitter wife to cope with the messes he made. He had used his rather limited Force abilities to coast through life. The seventeen-year-old Beru had seen only his charm and his sweetness, not his weakness. In retrospect, she did see it, however, and it frightened her. 

  
  


My judgment is nothing to boast about, she thought. Maybe I was attracted to Ben because he resembled my father. The conscious charm was the same, though Ben is much stronger--I think. And then there was Owen. She simply did not know what to do about him. Or, indeed, how she felt about him. I need a clean-minded older woman to give me some advice here, Beru thought. You now have your revenge, Ma. I miss you-so much. More than Da. Bet you never thought you'd hear me say *that,* did you? Well, you just did. A decade late, maybe, but late is better than not at all. 

  
  


Beru sighed, and decided that clean-mindedness was not an absolute prerequisite. That's how she found herself sitting opposite Madame Rijdan, balancing a cup of celadon tea on her knee. Beru and Owen had come back from Vaduz with the baby for the big event. They were scarcely on speaking terms once again, for Beru could not dissuade Owen from fighting Ben. His absolute stubbornness on this question exasperated her.

  
  


Madame Rijdan had not changed a bit. She was still large, loud and thoroughly overpowering, but Beru needed advice, and was getting rather desperate.

  
  


"Well, honey, what is it?" Madame Rijdan said, smiling toothily, and noting Beru's very evident nervousness. "I'm sure you're very proud of your hubby, aren't you? We were awfully impressed that he wanted to fight your abductor. It's not often you see an offworlder with such proper values."

  
  


"I don't *want* him to fight!" Beru blurted out.

  
  


Madame Rijdan looked taken aback. "Why not?"

  
  


Beru drew in her breath, "The abductor is his brother," she said.

  
  


There was a short silence; then Madame Rijdan gave her a narrow look, and said, "Well, do you want to explain to me what's actually going on here? Or not?"

  
  


Beru later decided that the Bakaniri had a decidedly negative effect on her truthfulness. She found herself telling Madame Rijdan a thoroughly ridiculous tale--Ben would have been startled to find himself playing the role of the Jealous Elder Brother. Madame Rijdan, however, was a thorough Bakaniri. That meant she loved melodramas, the wilder the better, so Beru supplied one. She filed Luke's actual paternity and their Jedi status under 'audience-does-not-need-to-know' in her internal filing system, however.

  
  


"Let me get this straight," Madame Rijdan said. "You were engaged to this elder brother, Ben, once, right?"

  
  


Beru nodded, and devoutly hoped that neither Ben nor Owen would ever hear this story.

  
  


"And he didn't take it well when you broke it off?"

  
  


Beru shook her head.

  
  


"And he was even less happy when you took up with his younger brother?"

  
  


Beru nodded again.

  
  


"Hmmm. And you're afraid your husband thinks you're still in love with his brother?" 

  
  


"Yes. That's why he's fighting. I'm sure of it." In fact, she wasn't sure at all why Owen was fighting. He had refused to discuss it with her, other than to inform her, infuriatingly, that she wouldn't understand it if he did.

"You gotta have faith, honey. He's wants to defend his womenfolk; I call that admirable, don't you?"

  
  


"No!" Beru cried. "I have to talk him out of it! I don't want him hurt! Or Ben, either, for that matter."

  
  


In choked voice, she then admitted Owen's suicide attempt on Vaduz. This caught Madame Rijdan's serious attention. 

  
  


"Well, I thought he was one of those types that take things too much to heart. Some men are like that."

  
  


"What should I do?" Beru almost wailed. "I've talked to him, I've nagged, I've yelled. Nothing works! He won't listen!"

  
  


Madame Rijdan gave her a pitying look.

  
  


"All I can say, honey, is: your education sure has been neglected! You want to change a man's mind, you don't *talk* to him."

  
  


"Then what do you--" Beru began. The speech withered on her lips under Madame Rijdan's scornful glance. 

  
  


"You use the weapons you were born with, honey. Though it's obvious to me that you need some serious coaching in *that* department! Not to worry, however. You've come to the right place."

  
  


Beru devoutly hoped so, because the 'coaching' resulted in her ending up in the bedroom she shared with Owen, wearing little more than a transparent negligee and a permanent blush. This time she had managed to fight off-just barely--Madame Rijdan's attempt to curl her hair and apply heavy cosmetics to her face. She considered the negligee bad enough, but her mentor had insisted.

  
  


She had also insisted upon babysitting Luke. Beru had been extremely dubious about this; but to her surprise, Madame Rijdan's mesmerizing effect on Luke held true. He had been bourne off by that lady triumphantly. He made little protest, beyond staring reproachfully at Beru over Madame Rijdan's shoulder.

  
  


Owen had been working out each day to prepare for the duel. He came in looking hot, sweaty, and a bit grumpy. Beru suppressed a desire to snatch a sheet from the bed and cover herself with it. How stupid is that? she thought to herself. It's not as though he hasn't seen it all before. Well, as much as he could with the lights out. The lights weren't out today.

  
  


"I had to wait nearly half an hour for a practice room--" Owen began on a complaining note. He stopped, staring at her.

  
  


Beru stared back at him.

  
  


After a pause, during which he took in her appearance, Owen looked around the room, noting the lit candles and expensive Azerant wine Madame Rijdan had insisted upon. "Am I interrupting something here?" he asked sarcastically. "You expecting company?"

  
  


"Sure am," Beru said, wondering if she looked as absurd as she felt. "You."

  
  


"Seems to me we've had this conversation before," Owen said. "What's my line, again? Oh, yeah--- Beru, is this your notion of a seduction?"

  
  


"No, it isn't," Beru said crossly. She nearly mentioned Madame Rijdan, but decided against it. Owen was a stickler for privacy. She suspected this trait was cultural. Tatooine, his home planet, was a strange place. It was controlled by the Hutts, notorious for their corruption and dissolute ways; but the settlers who inhabited its outer regions were very different--poor, proud, hard-working and self-sufficient. And, according to repute, very, very straight-laced. This last trait was perhaps bred into the bone by the isolation of their lives. Beru, brought up on a crowded space ship, had different notions, but Owen's self-consciousness in this area affected her adversely, in her opinion. 

  
  


"Then why are you doing it?" Owen asked, very quietly.

  
  


Beru sighed. "What do you think?" she asked. She was briefly cheered to note the fact that Owen was trying to look away but not succeeding. 

  
  


"You want to talk me out of the duel."

  
  


"Give the man first prize," Beru said, covering her acute embarrassment with a veil of sarcasm.

  
  


"Shouldn't I be insulted?" Owen said. His voice was almost pleading.

  
  


"I don't know, should you? After all, you're the romantic one. I wanted something that would appeal to you. And after all my trouble, it doesn't."

  
  


Owen hesitated. "I wouldn't say that, exactly," he said, carefully.

  
  


Beru's embarrassment flared into anger. "Well, too bad," she said. " I'm not romantic, Owen. Not at all. So if this doesn't--exactly--appeal to you, we'll do it my way."

  
  


"Which is?" Owen asked defiantly.

  
  


Beru grinned suddenly. Her self-consciousness deserted her--and she didn't miss it. She gave Owen a sweet smile. "Why don't you come over here and find out?" she said softly.

  
  


Owen blushed. "Beru, not now, I'm all sweaty--"

  
  


"Sweat doesn't bother me a bit. Scared?"

  
  


Owen's chin went up. "No," he said grittily.

  
  


"Well, then--"

  
  


Owen made a final protest. "Beru, the *lights* are on!"

  
  


"So they are," Beru said, calmly. "Duly noted."

  
  


"Can't we turn them off?"

  
  


"Not this time, Owen. My terms, remember? You're going to get an eyeful. Let me amend that-even more of an eyeful than you're currently getting. And so am I. Who knows, you might even enjoy it better that way."

  
  
  
  


(To be continued....)


	22. Chapter 22The Penalty is Ritual Disembow...

Chapter Twenty-Two--The Penalty is Ritual Disembowelment

  
  


The next morning, Beru wondered why Madame Rijdan thought sex solved matters: in her case, it just seemed to complicate things.

  
  


Is Owen capable of telling me that he wants to proceed with the duel, even after accepting the pro-offered bait? she wondered. And the answer to that question is: of course he is. 

  
  


And indeed, he did.

  
  


"That had nothing to do with it!" he claimed.

  
  


"Nothing to do with it!" Beru snapped. "I told you up front."

  
  


"You told me you were trying to manipulate me, yeah," Owen said, trying to look dignified while half-undressed. He very nearly managed it.

  
  


"I want you to forget about the duel," Beru said, not mincing matters.

  
  


Owen shook his head. The more clothes he had on, the more stubborn he got, Beru thought, exasperated.

  
  


"Owen!" Beru cried. "I am *not* joking around here!"

  
  


"You're awfully concerned about that duel," Owen muttered resentfully.

  
  


Beru raised her brows. "Which means?"

  
  


"Is it Ben you're worried about?" Owen asked.

  
  


"Does it matter?" Beru was rapidly losing her temper, a sensation she disliked.

  
  


"Yes!" Owen said, glaring at her.

  
  


"It wasn't Ben I just slept with."

  
  


"Do you wish it was?"

  
  


"And what does *that* mean?" Beru cried.

  
  


"Did you ever--" Owen began, and then stopped.

  
  


"Did I ever what?"

  
  


"Sleep with Ben?" Owen blurted.

  
  


His good reflexes saved him; he managed to dodge the heavy crystal glass that Beru threw at him. She then began throwing everything at him that she could put a hand to, in an almost steady stream. Owen tried dodging them; then he retreated to the doorway.

  
  


"Get out!" Beru cried.

  
  


"You didn't answer----!"

  
  


"Out!"

  
  


She slammed the bedroom door and locked it. Then she found her carryalls, and proceeded, as quickly as she could, to pack. It took longer than she wanted, because her hands were trembling so much from sheer anger. She could hear Owen pounding on the door, but she ignored him.

  
  


Packing complete, she threw open the door, nearly bowling Owen over. Both carryalls in hand, she pushed quickly past him.

  
  


"Beru, where are you going?"

  
  


"I wish I could say I was going home to my mother, but I can't," Beru said. "But I am leaving. And I'm taking Luke with me. You and Ben can murder each other for all I care. In fact, I hope you do."

  
  


Leaving that sentiment ringing in his ears, she headed for Madame Rijdan's home.

  
  


But in her grand and hasty exit, she had forgotten that she had no money. This meant she had to rely upon the kindness of strangers in getting to her destination. Luckily, the usual Bakaniri gallantry saw her through. But the effort delayed her to mid-day, and she arrived to find that Madame Rijdan had already taken Luke home.

Beru arrived back at the suite in a state of smouldering exasperation. She would have to see Owen again, which she feared; given a weak moment, she might throttle him. So she carefully masked her presence in the Force, and cautiously opened the door--maybe, if she was lucky, she could retrieve Luke without Owen noticing. Well, that's not likely, she thought, but maybe something today will finally go my way.

  
  


The entryway was empty, but she could hear voices from the parlour-hall. One was Owen's.

  
  


"I just don't understand her," Owen said.

  
  


Somebody else murmured something. Beru could not hear it who was.

  
  


"She doesn't want me to fight Ben. She thinks I can't win."

  
  


Another inaudible murmur. Beru strained to hear.

  
  


"I think she still loves Ben," Owen said morosely. "That must be the reason. After all, she wouldn't answer, when I asked her--"

  
  


"When you asked her what?" Now Beru knew the identity of the other speaker: Madame Rijdan. 

  
  


Beru peered around the corner. Owen and Madame Rijdan were sitting facing each other in the parlour-hall, drinking cups of caf. Luke was sitting on Owen's lap, and as he talked, Owen absently rocked the child back and forth. If he stopped, Luke imperiously rapped on his arm, demanding immediate resumption of motion. He got it. Beru stared at this tableau, marveling over the utter perversity of the male sex. She had spent months mediating disputes between Owen and Luke. Just as she had finally decided to leave Owen for good, he and Luke---of course!---decided to bond with each other. It was somehow typical of both of them, she thought bitterly.

  
  


"When I asked her whether she'd slept with Ben," Owen said.

  
  


Madame Rijdan was shocked. "You asked her that?"

  
  


"Yes, but--"

  
  


"Yes, but nothing! What did she say?"

  
  


"She didn't say anything, but she threw a glass at me. It shattered on the wall."

  
  


"Well, honey, if you're still standing, and that's all she did, you're a lucky man."

  
  


Owen bridled, and said stubbornly, "She didn't answer."

  
  


"I wouldn't have answered, either. That's a damned insult, and none of your business, anyway."

  
  


Owen hesitated, and then said in a small voice, "Should I apologize?"

Madame Rijdan considered this. "You could," she said. "Not that it's going to make any difference."

  
  


"You think not?"

  
  


"Of course not. No Bakaniri woman would accept the apology, anyway. An insult like that---to their honor and their clan--requires punishment."

  
  


Owen raised his brows: "Such as?"

  
  


"That kind of insult? Any self-respecting Bakaniri woman would carve your liver out. While you watched."

  
  


"You're joking."

  
  


By way of answer, Madame Rijdan pulled up her formal Bakaniri daywear to display a still-shapely leg encased in a dark silken stocking. Just below the knee, held in place by a embroidered garter, was a wicked-looking vibro-knife.

  
  


"See that," she said. "I'm not joking at all." 

  
  


Owen stared at her blankly.

  
  


Madame Rijdan unsheathed the knife and gave him a significant look. Owen edged away from her. 

"You've got a nerve," Madame Rijdan said. "You don't insult women like that on this planet. Such behavior is *not* allowed. And that poor little girl loves you, too."

  
  


Owen snorted. "She doesn't," he said.

  
  


"Yes, she does. You should have seen her after that brute of a brother of yours worked her over. I thought she should go to the hospital, but she wouldn't. Wanted to get back to you. I don't know why."

  
  


"I don't know why, either," Beru said, breaking the silence.

  
  


Madame Rijdan and Owen both looked up. Luke crowed in greeting. Beru swooped in on him, and gathered him up. He looked distinctly wired and his hands were sticky. Beru diagnosed sweets; the Bakaniri believed in stuffing children with them, and Madame Rijdan was obviously no exception. She suppressed her irritation.

  
  


"Thank you, Madame Rijdan, it was very nice of you to look after Luke for us," she said formally.

  
  


It was request for privacy, but subtle signals were lost on the Bakaniri. Madame Rijdan shook her head. 

"Honey," she said. "Here's my vibro-knife. You're going to need it."

  
  


Beru glanced at Owen. His face was expressionless. But his complexion--yes! was turning distinctly green. Beru felt a surge of amusement overcome her temper. She schooled her face into a serious look, and gravely took the vibro-knife.

  
  


"Thank you. I'll use it, and think of you."

  
  


Owen's face grew greener.

  
  


"If you're feeling charitable, it's best to get it over quickly," Madame Rijdan said, in a helpful spirit. "Just plunge it in, just there, that's the liver; and twist it."

  
  


Beru advanced upon Owen with a business-like look on her face. She touched his side with the point of the knife. "There?" she asked, looking over her shoulder.

  
  


"A little higher, and to the right. Yes! Right there."

  
  


"Alright." She met Owen's eyes. After his first flinch, he didn't react, he just stared at her. He made no attempt to defend himself. And he'd be just like that in the duel, she thought. That's why I don't want him to fight Ben. Owen could never hurt his brother, but I'm not entirely sure Ben wouldn't hurt him.

  
  


She looked at Owen for a long minute; then Madame Rijdan said, prompting her: "It's cruel to prolong it, honey."

  
  


"Well, he insulted me, and I'm angry about it, but if I kill him, I'm a widow, right?"

  
  


"Don't you worry, honey, the Captain is the biggest matchmaker in this system! He'll have every handsome young man on Bakanir lining up to marry you."

  
  


Oddly enough, Beru did not find this vision particularly alluring.

  
  


"Luke will miss his father," she said, almost pleading.

  
  


"Nonsense! He's far too young! We'll find him a nice stepfather, you watch."

  
  


The corner of Owen's mouth starting twitching. Beru glared at him.

  
  


"Honey, your honor's at stake here," Madame Rijdan said reprovingly. "You've got to have a better reason than that to spare his life."

  
  


Beru stepped back and whispered something in Madame Rijdan's ear. That lady gave a sudden crack of laughter.

  
  


"Well, if you say so, honey," she said, chuckling, "If that's the case, I wouldn't kill him, either." She retrieved her knife from Beru, patted Luke's head, and gave Owen a slow and appraising look, which seemed to surprise him. "You never can tell from appearances, can you?" she muttered to no one in particular, as she headed to the door.

  
  


Owen and Beru watched her go. Owen sighed and said, "Well, what lie did you tell about me this time? Or should I be able to guess?"

  
  


Beru grinned suddenly. "It wasn't exactly a lie. I just said that you were extremely long in the--"

  
  


"Never mind!"

  
  


"----tooth," Beru finished innocently.

  
  


"Oh, Hoth," Owen said. "Before I got involved with you, I used to have a good reputation. Now I've been accused of seducing innocent maidens," he gave Beru an ironic look, "siring illegitimate children on them," here he looked at Luke, who had found the candy Madame Rijdan had left for him, and was happily stuffing his mouth with it, "abandoning no-longer-so-innocent maiden plus child, being forced to marry her, attacking my brother, trying to kill myself, refusing a duel after I said I would fight it, and now----now! having such a very long--."

  
  


"Tooth," Beru said, trying to keep a straight face.

  
  


"--tooth, that even a Bakaniri woman agreed that honor wasn't as important!"

  
  


He began slowly beating his head against the wall. Luke watched him and laughed delightedly. 

  
  


Beru went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Owen."

  
  


"Yeah?"

  
  


"Stop that," she said. "Please."

  
  


"I've stopped."

  
  


"Does it seem to you that we're going around in circles?"

  
  


"Oh, definitely," Owen said.

  
  


"There's a way to stop it."

  
  


Owen sighed. "I don't really want to know about that, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."

  
  


"Too true. I want you to stop suppressing your feelings so that I can't read them. Permanently."

  
  


Owen was silent a moment. "You don't ask for much, do you, Beru?" he asked, almost in despair.

  
  


Sarcasm, Beru thought. To a man as proud and reserved as Owen, to require such a thing of him was tantamount to asking him to strip off his clothes in public. He won't do it, she thought. She didn't know if she were disappointed or relieved.

  
  


"I'll do it," Owen said, "on one condition."

  
  


Well, when had Owen not surprised her? And I'll bet this one condition is a doozy, Beru thought. "Which is?" she said.

  
  


"I want something from you in exchange," Owen said steadily.

  
  


Beru nodded. She didn't want to ask what. She had a feeling that she didn't want to hear the answer any more than Owen had.

  
  


"You tell me you love me," Owen said.

  
  


Oh, yes, absolutely! A public striptease from Owen would be much more likely, Beru thought. She suddenly realized that she had constantly blamed the failure of their relationship on Owen; Owen's shyness, Owen's suppression, Owen's cultural conditioning. And what about her own? Despite his inbred inhibitions, he had managed to tell her how he felt. She had never returned the favor. She remembered her behavior in the med-center on Vaduz. It's a damned wonder to me he's still interested, she thought ruefully. He's a lot braver than I am. And bolder. I never told Ben how I felt, and I won't tell Owen, either. That's my revenge on him. 

  
  


"Don't hurry or anything," Owen said. 

  
  


Beru recognized an attempt by Owen to gather the tattered shreds of his pride around him. She noticed suddenly that he had already kept his side of the bargain; he was not suppressing. And she could sense that he was preparing, slowly and painfully, for yet another rebuff. I'm hurting him and he doesn't deserve it, even if he is a jerk sometimes. Like I'm not. So why can't I say it? Make him happy? The insidious voice in her head whispered, because if you tell him that you love him, the last of your control over him goes. The level playing field at last. The thought alone terrified her. But if he can do it, sister, so can you. Buck up and show some backbone for once.

  
  


She looked at him and saw that he was looking back at her. The last of her anger at him melted. She put her arms around him and hugged him.

  
  


"I love you," she said. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


(To be continued....)

  
  



	23. EpilogueOn the Road Again

As you wish, Renee.

  
  
  
  


Epilogue: On the Road Again.

  
  


Three little words, Beru thought later, don't change things as much as you think they will.

  
  


They didn't make Owen into the man of her dreams, or Luke into the child of her own that she had always wanted.

  
  


No, not that. But they did bind her to a man who loved her. And she had come to believe that she loved him, too. It wasn't the desperate infatuation she had once felt for Obi-Wan. It was a sadder, wiser emotion, one that made her fell older, suddenly.

  
  


I suppose this is maturity, she thought, rather sadly. Now she understood her mother better, and wondered if she hadn't misread her parent's marriage. Perhaps they had not been as unhappy as she had thought. They had been mismatched, certainly. Yet they had found a common ground. The surfaces of things were not always the truth of them; nor, for that matter, were the depths.

  
  


She kept this in mind when she visited Mme. Rijan the next day. That lady was obviously concerned about the situation, and kept asking, never quite directly, if Beru was happy with Owen. Beru assured her, also never quite directly, that she was.

  
  


"Well, honey, you know best. He's a decent man, in his own way. And he seems to be a good father." 

True enough. This development still surprised Beru. She wondered if it would last. There are no guarantees of anything, stupid, her inner voice whispered. She nodded.

  
  


"He's not bad looking, either," Madame Rijdan said.

  
  


Beru nodded again.

  
  


"And from what you say, he's got a very big--"

  
  


"Heart," Beru interjected hastily.

  
  


Madame Rijdan gave her braying laugh. "As you say, honey," she said.

  
  


"Please thank Captain Rijan for all he did for us," Beru said, hoping to change the subject. She handed over a holocube. "I've recorded a testimonial for him here. About him saving me from kidnapping. Perhaps it'll help him get that posting he wants in the Hall of Honour."

  
  


Madame Rijdan brightened as she took the holocube. "Well, honey, that's a right kind thought. Are you sure there's nothing more we can do for you?"

  
  


"Can you let Ben go--in about ten days? Just give us a head start."

  
  


"Honey, are you sure? We could jail him indefinitely, if you wanted."

  
  


"No, please. Just the head start. That's all we need."

  
  


"Very well, then. You know best. You take care, honey. Look after the little soldier, will you? And keep that man of yours in line. He needs it."

  
  


Beru smiled and gave Madame Rijdan a shy kiss. 

  
  


"Gotta go," she said. "Owen's waiting. And I'm betting Luke is tormenting the hell out of him. As usual."

  
  


Well, not exactly. She discovered Owen and their luggage outside their suite; Luke was on his shoulders. Since the child loathed inaction at any time, he was eager to start. He drummed his small heels imperatively against Owen's shoulders. Owen rolled his eyes when he saw her. 

  
  


"Guess I should be happy he hasn't discovered spurs," he said ruefully. "Yet, anyway." He captured Luke's feet and held them still. Luke was distracted by Beru's arrival, and didn't fuss about this, to her distinct relief.

  
  


"Ready?" she said.

  
  


"We're packed, and I checked the suite twice. Did Madame Rijdan agree?"

  
  


"Yes. She says we'll have ten days before they release Ben. That should be enough."

  
  


"Optimist," Owen said.

  
  


"Pessimism is a waste of time," Beru said firmly.

  
  
  
  


(To be continued--eventually--in Part Three. Part Two coming up.)

  
  



End file.
